


Just like Spiderman

by alvfr



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Slow Burn, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 70,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25980244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alvfr/pseuds/alvfr
Summary: A year ago, Jamie Henderson was a nobody. She had her family, her straight A’s and a big stupid crush on the most popular guy at school: Steve Harrington. Now, thanks to her idiot little brother and an interdimensional monster, she is known throughout Hawkins as “Coma Girl.” Her parents got divorced, she’s flunking Chemistry and her new best friend just happens to be Steve Harrington’s girlfriend.After a party, she accidentally stops taking the medication some shady government doctors had prescribed and things...change. The monsters are back, there’s a new popular guy at school and her little brother continues to get them into trouble.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Original Female Character(s), Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Joyce - Relationship, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 102
Kudos: 216





	1. Chapter 1

The first thought Jamie Henderson had when that _thing_ sunk its teeth into her flesh was ‘I’m gonna lose my leg!’. The second was: ‘Why is it not hurting more?’ Those two thoughts, clear as day, in that same split second that seemed to stretch on eternally. Why is it not hurting more? Then time started moving again and Jamie Henderson screamed.

The monster had closed its entire flower-petal head over her leg and bitten down. Hundreds - thousands - of teeth bursting through her skin, tearing through the soft tissue and hitting bone. Blinded by the blazingly hot pain, Jamie instinctively tried to yank her leg back, only causing a saw-like effect through her muscles. That thing’s entire head was made of mouths and teeth and Jamie held her breath in anticipation for it to rip its powerful neck back and tear off her entire left leg from thigh down.

“JAMIE!” A girl -had to be Nancy- cried out through a haze of needle-stabbing pain. Other shouts joined in, panicked and chaotic. Jamie still screamed, soundlessly, struggling to get enough air into her lungs. Instead of the monster jerking backwards to rip flesh from her bone like she would pluck chicken-meat from wings, it took some slow and powerful steps backwards, dragging her along with it. Her clothing stuck on the rough wooden floor and her fingers scrambled for hold - it was taking her to the opening, to its world.

Three pair of arms grabbed her upper body and arms to hold her back.

“JAMIE! HOLD ON!”

“TAKE THE AXE! JONATHAN!”

“HOLD ON, JAMIE, JUST-”

Caught in the middle of a deadly tug of war, Jamie prayed her leg would come off to be free of the gnawing stabbing whenever either party gained some traction. Her fingers curled around Steve’s arms - she did not want to die. She did not want to die!

Steve shouted something, right by her ear, drowned out by the chaos around them. Jamie bit her jaw together, but now felt her fingers going numb, her grip slowly loosening. No, no, no, no, no! Her leg felt like it was on fire, literally burning away to ashes, and she thought of that horrifying mouth and that slime and that time Tommy H had dared her to lick a venomous frog when they were in pre-school and her tongue had numbed down to nothing and-

Jamie couldn’t scream anymore. Her vision swam. She stared at Steve, tried to focus, tried to speak, but only managed a single word: “Help.”

The monster yanked its body backwards and Jamie was sure her body tore in half. Next it was dark.

* * *

“Nightmares?”

“Yes.”

“Same dream as before?”

“Yes. Teeth and...darkness.”

“And you can’t remember anything more from the incident? Or that night?”

“No, just...teeth and darkness.”

“Okay.” Long pause. “You’re still taking your medication? Three times a day, before meals?”

“Yes.”

“‘Atta girl.”

* * *

Jamie Henderson had not really been friends with Nancy Wheeler before the Incident that took place last year. They were in the same grade and their younger brothers were best friends, making Jamie and Nancy somewhat polite acquaintances that smiled close-lipped when they met in the school hallway and made awkward smalltalk whenever family obligations drove them together. They had somewhat of the same status in school, both were considered bookish and smart, but somehow Nancy was on speaking-terms with most of the school and Jamie was invisible to everyone but her friends in the Physics and Engineering club. It was, as Jamie had reflected on a few occasions, highly unfair, but could also be explained in three words: Nancy was pretty. Actually, Nancy Wheeler was beautiful and she had this wonderful personality that was wasted on someone so good-looking, where Jamie had struck out on both.

This explained why Nancy had received an invitation to Tina’s Halloween Party, and Jamie had not.

“We’re going!” Nancy announced while bouncing on the balls of her feet. Jamie looked at the bright orange paper in her hands before looking up at her fellow outcast Jonathan Byers who gave her a desolate shrug. They had not exactly been friends before either, and were still only in each other’s company because of Nancy, but both of them could at least appreciate the dark anxiety at the thought of attending a high-school party usually only reserved for the School’s Elite.

“Uhm,” Jamie said, pretending to read the glaringly short invitation while the school’s body of population milled around them in the hallway. A crude drawing of a ghost and a beer-bottle, and the words ‘Come and get sheet-faced’. The pun was so bad it was almost funny. Nancy’s energetic smile made Jamie’s bravery waver. “I kinda already have plans...”

“What, get Connor’s older brother to buy you two beers each and watch R-rated horror movies in Frankie D’s basement like you’re thirteen years old?” Nancy asked with her usual nerve-wrackingly perceptiveness. She gestured to Jonathan, who stood awkwardly with his camera over his shoulder. “Jonathan’s going.”

“No, I’m not,” he quickly countered, and Nancy’s face fell. Jonathan shifted the camera on his shoulder and nodded to both the girls. “I gotta go get these films developed.”

He wandered off, sending Jamie a pitying look, ditching her in the hands of a socially scheming Nancy Wheeler.

“Uhm,” Jamie said and tried to make it appear she was giving it due thought. “I don’t know...”

“Oh come on! It could be fun, maybe you’ll, like, meet someone!” Nancy said and was about to say something else before she erupted in shrieks and giggles. Steve Harrington, Nancy’s boyfriend and star of the basketball-team, had appeared and physically lifted Nancy off the ground while spinning her around.

“Uh, hi,” Jamie said quietly, but neither Steve nor Nancy had heard her, as they were both too busy bickering and making out in front of Nancy’s locker. Jamie scratched the back of her head, fully aware of the blush creeping up her neck at the sight of the two teenage lovebirds. It did not help that she had had a pretty long-lasting and pitifully one-sided crush on Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington since the beginning of middle school. She coughed and mumbled: “I gotta get to class...”

It was just an excuse to get out of there, but neither of them paid her any attention as she made her way down the hallway, tugging on her backpack that sat securely over both shoulders.

Okay, so, she and Nancy had not been friends when Nancy first started going out with Steve Harrington. Which meant that there was no reason for Jamie to feel guilty about the pretty horrid stuff she had written about Nancy in her diary, a full-up nasty word vomit that stemmed solely from jealousy. Now they were friends, pretty much forced together by last year’s chaotic happenings, and Jamie knew, even if she didn’t have many (read: any) girlfriends, that it was wrong of her to think of Steve the way she still did as long as he was going out with Nancy. It would have helped, too, if Steve hadn’t been pretty vital in saving her life from that-

Jamie closed her eyes and tried to breathe. She tried to take deep breaths, in through her nose, out through her mouth, and she tried to ignore the tingling of her left leg where _it_ had left its marks. She failed on all accounts.

_“Watch it, Coma Girl!”_

She opened her eyes just in time to see Tommy H inches away from her, a matter he resolved by shoving her to the side. Jamie hit the brick wall with her shoulder and _oof_ ed as it knocked the air out of her lungs. Vision swimming, more from memories than real-time pain, she stared at the moving backs of Tommy H and his clique. Carol, Tina, Ryan, Josh and someone that could only be the renowned new guy, fresh in from California that all the girls were swooning over. No-one in Hawkins High walked with that kind of swagger. None of them looked back.

Jamie grimaced and picked herself back up, looking at the other students who were all busy pretending they had not seen anything. A few were whispering behind their hands, so discreet everyone could hear them. At least last year she had been completely invisible. Now everyone knew her, even if it was only as Coma Girl. Making her way to the library, she crumpled the party-invitation into a ball and chucked it in the first trash can. Not even Nancy Wheeler could persuade her to attend that stupid party.

##

Claudia Henderson drove a goldenbrown-ish Chrysler that Jamie had stalled every single time her mom persuaded her to give driving practice a go. Now, every other Tuesday, it stood parked outside the curb of Hawkins High with the motor running, waiting for Jamie.

“Hi, sweetie!” Claudia said brightly and Jamie gave a grunted reply as she dumped her backpack in the backseat. Jamie knew her mom was a naturally positive and optimistic person with a bubbly personality, but sometimes - especially every other Tuesday - she wished her mom would just give it a rest. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Jamie grunted again and fastened her seatbelt. It was no secret that Jamie took after her dad more than her mom, and Dustin vice-versa. Claudia could talk for hours on auto-pilot, just like Dustin, while Jamie had trouble getting a few sentences out even in a one-on-one conversation. Trying to sink into her seat, ignoring the cat hairs that covered most of the car’s interior, she willed the ride to stretch out into infinity. She hated every other Tuesday. She hated being excused from class. She hated being picked up by her mom. She hated the hour-long drive to the government-run facility that posed as a hospital. Most of all, she hated lying to her mom.

Officially, she had been attacked by a rabid animal. Everyone was fussy on the details, but everyone also knew the bigger picture. Animal-attack, five months in the hospital, three of them in a coma, miraculous recovery. This was what her parents thought had happened as well. That part was not exactly a lie. It _had_ been an animal, of sorts. And she had been in a coma.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Mom suddenly exclaimed and Jamie blinked to get back to real-time again. “I picked up your Halloween costume today.”

“My Halloween-costume?” Jamie asked with furrowed brows. “Picked up from where?”

“You don’t remember?” Mom’s gaze darted between the road and Jamie with concern laced in her voice. “You wanted it last year, we - me and dad - thought you were still too young, and we made a deal that if you maintained A-average you could dress up as-”

“Madonna,” Jamie finished, staring unseeingly on the road. The edgy pop-star had risen a couple of years back with a tomboy-style, coupled with bleached hair and heavy makeup, and she was everything Jamie wanted to be. She and Dustin had both memorized the entire choreography of the music-video to ‘Holiday’, not a fact she was willing to share with anyone living outside the Henderson House. Jamie’s heart beat a bit harder in her chest as she mulled it over.

“But I missed an entire semester of school,” Jamie pointed out and her mother scoffed good-heartedly.

“Well, to be honest, it was mostly your dad who had a problem with you dressing up as a cool rockstar, and he doesn’t really get a say now, does he?”

Jamie tried to return her mom’s strained smile. A lot had happened the last year, including the divorce. Still, the thought of dressing up like Madonna...she remembered the argument last year, how her father had opposed it firmly, claiming she was too young to be dressed like what he called a ‘wannabe-prostitute’. She had desperately wanted that look, even though she now couldn’t imagine herself wearing that while watching those illegally-copied horror movies Frankie’s cousin brought back from Japan.

“Oh look, Joyce and Will are already here!”

The drive seemed to go by faster and faster and now they were pulling into the semi-abandoned parking lot of what posed as a hospital. Joyce - Mrs. Byers - and Will were indeed standing by their car, and so was Chief Hopper, who was smoking a cigarette and gave a gruff nod when Claudia chose the parking spot next to them. Joyce and Claudia hugged, two mothers united in their concern for their children, and then Claudia gushed over Will in that way that was mortifying for every pre-teen boy. Joyce pulled Jamie too into a quick hug, smelling of shampoo and cigarettes. Jamie and Will said nothing, but exchanged a small glance of comfort in joint misery.

“Shall we?” Claudia asked brightly and gestured to the ugly gray building that had a random collection of green plants by its entrance to give any semblance of hospitality and warmth. Jamie suspected there were more killers than healers inside, more suits than scrubs at least. Her leg tingled.

As a group, they walked in silence, having done this regularly for the last year. They always put Jamie and Will’s sessions back-to-back, with the reasoning that Claudia and Joyce could split the driving between them if they wanted. Considering that Joyce was reluctant to let Will out of her sight for even a second, let alone allow him to attend these check-ups with a government-employed doctor by himself, Claudia probably could have gotten away without driving Jamie one single time. She did not though. Through the last year, Jamie could count the times Claudia asked Joyce take Jamie with her on one hand. It was usually when it was an emergency at work or when the sessions clashed with Dustin’s orthodontist’s appointments. It was not like she even went in with Jamie to the doctor’s office, but she still drove her here, every other Tuesday. Jamie guiltily wished she wouldn’t have, that it was Joyce and Chief Hopper only, so that they could speak freely about what happened. Claudia Henderson was probably the only one in the entire building that did not know what actually happened to Will, Barbara and Jamie last year.

Jamie had considered asking Claudia to stop taking her, that it was easier to just hitch a ride with Joyce or even the Chief, but could not bring herself to it. She suspected her mom was just trying to feel a little less helpless when it came to her child’s well-being.

As always, Will was up first. His sessions were longer - and more frequent. As far as Jamie knew, Will had to come in at least once a week, and more often if the need arose - and because Joyce was the judge of that, they came up here quite often. So, in that sense, she supposed she should feel lucky. She did not.

“Want anything from the vending machine?” her mom asked and Jamie shook her head ‘no’. “I’ll go get some coffee then. Hopper?”

Hopper affirmed his wish for coffee and Claudia went down the hall to the cafeteria. The second she was out of earshot, Hopper asked: “You okay, kid?”

Jamie looked up from where she sat hunched over in her chair, elbows resting on her knees. Hopper had gone with Joyce into the dark dimension to get Will back. He might just be - and look like - a small town cop, but he was more capable than most. To answer his question, Jamie just shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Look a little pale around the gills,” Hopper persisted, still examining her with his police-born scrutiny. Jamie just shrugged again. As far as she concerned, the only reason she was not okay was because she had to come here all the time. He was probably just projecting. Will had looked even paler than usual and skinnier, if that was possible. According to Dustin’s less-than-accurate storytelling, Will had these...episodes every once in a while. Flashbacks of a sort. Yeah, Jamie thought as Claudia returned with two cups of coffee, she was indeed lucky compared to Will.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Dr. Owens said jovially as he came down the hallway, two pairs of clipboards in his hand. The so-called nurses must have finished their physical check-up of Will then. The doctor nodded to Hopper and opened the door to let both himself and the Chief inside. “Chief. See you in a bit, Miss Henderson.”

After what seemed like an eternity, Will and his mom came out from the check-up room along with Chief Hopper. Joyce smiled, even if it was strained, and indicated it was Jamie’s turn.

“Sure you don’t want me to go with you?” her mom asked, like she did every time.

“It’ll go faster if you don’t,” Jamie just muttered and Claudia nodded sadly, but recovered fast enough.

“All right, I’ll be down with Sheryl if you need me.”

Sheryl was the stone-faced black woman that manned the reception desk at the so-called hospital. It had taken Claudia two visits before she had struck up a friendship with the woman, and now Jamie would not be surprised if her mom knew all the names and ages of Sheryl’s kids, nieces and nephews. This was another trait Jamie desperately wanted to inherit, the ability to make friends as easy as breathing.

All thoughts of her mother went out of her head when she stepped inside the check-up room. It was spacious, plenty of windows, but it was cold and somehow still felt claustrophobic. The nurses were adjusting the chair to fit her size rather than Will’s, and Jamie was directed to the medical weight scale. Doctor Owens excused himself to have a quick chat with Joyce and Hopper while Jamie was subject to a full physical-check up. She averted her gaze when told to undress, refusing to look at the mess of muscles and tendons that used to be her left shin and knee. She looked away when the nurses took her blood too, queasy at the sight of the large needle.

“Okay, so, how are we doing today, Jamie?” Doctor Owens asked when he was back inside the room, Jamie now fully dressed again and strapped to the strange chair.

“Fine.”

“All right, that’s good. You’re still losing weight, Jamie, have you had any changes in your diet?”

“No, I just...I’m not hungry.”

He recorded this. “Uh-huh. Well, you’re still in a healthy weight range, but closing in on underweight. I’ll talk to your mom about adjusting your meals a bit, add more proteins and fats. You’re seventeen, still growing!”

Doctor Owens chuckled, while Jamie only nodded politely. He continued with his questioning: “Okay, so, any dizziness the last couple of weeks?”

“Some,” Jamie admitted and shifted in her chair. “When I stand up too fast, or - or when I think too much about _that.”_

“Okay. You think about it a lot?”

“No, try not to.”

“Remember how we talked about that it’s healthy to talk things through? I understand it’s difficult to talk about it with your mom, but whenever you’re ready, we have several on-site specially trained thera-”

“I don’t remember anything from that night,” Jamie countered, cutting him off. It was the same procedure every time.

Doctor Owens regarded her a few seconds, as if he was considering calling her bluff. “No new recollections?”

“No, just teeth and darkness. Same as before.”

“Nightmares?”

“Same as before.”

“Okay,” Doctor Owens said, his voice more serious, but still not defeated. “Any other things to report? Mood-swings? Light sensitivity? Swollen joints?”

“No, nothing.” Jamie sighed and shifted in her seat. She hated this. “How long do I have to keep coming here?”

Doctor Owens did not sigh, but put down his clipboard and gave Jamie his best, comforting doctor-smile. “Jamie, we talked about this. You know the antidote you were injected with was a prototype.” Read: highly experimental. “Side-effects can lay dormant and materialize years or even decades later. To ensure your well-being, we need to monitor your health-status regularly.” Read: we don’t want to get sued. “But, as things have been pretty stable for quite some time now, we can probably look at you coming in here once a month, rather than every two weeks, how does that sound?”

Jamie admitted it sounded better, even if she would have preferred to just walk out of there right away and never come back. Doctor Owens, satisfied with her response, returned to business as usual.

“Still taking your medicine?”

Jamie nearly rolled her eyes. The chair was giving her a headache. “Yes.”

“Okay, good. Any plans for Halloween?”

“What?” Jamie looked at the doctor, who had gone completely off script. Now was usually when he asked her about when she took the pills and how many a day.

Doctor Owens smiled. “Halloween! I assume you’re not going trick-or-treating like young Will is. Do you have any plans? Party perhaps?”

“Uhm...me and a couple of friends, we usually have like a movie-night.”

The doctor’s smile remained fixed and disarming. “Any alcohol?”

“What?”

“The Stablon we have you on, have you read the prescription label?”

“Uh, I think my mom-”

“You are aware that it is not safe to mix with alcohol?”

“What do you mean not safe?” Jamie asked, head reeling from this sudden change of pace.

“Mixing tianeptine, the active ingredient in Stablon, with alcohol can have some unwanted side-effects. Just so that you keep that in the back of your mind. Trust me on this, chocolate is better - and safer. Feel free to have as much as you want tomorrow, need to pack a few pounds back on.”

They ended the session with a quick walkthrough of her general health, in which all looked fine. Jamie was sent back out while Doctor Owens had a quick chat with her mom. From what she had learned, her mom just received most of the same questions as Jamie did (“Is your daughter experiencing any mood swings? Any changes in personality?”), but Jamie loathed not being able to hear her mom’s answers. She always wondered if her mom was saying something that forced her to come back here every two weeks.

Jamie plumped down in a chair next to Will without saying anything. Hopper had warned them both to be careful what they said while they were in the building, he was certain they were being recorded. Will did not look up at Jamie, rather concentrating on his drawing of the Ghostbusters-logo. That tugged at Jamie’s lips. They were going as Ghostbusters for Halloween and Dustin had spent a few weeks now making his proton pack and a somewhat functioning Muon Trap. Will was having some troubles with his drawing, his right hand trembling slightly. Jamie frowned again. His sessions were more about his mental health than his physical, and Jamie could tell it was a lot more taxing than just getting a bodily check-up.

“All right, Jamie-baby, are you ready to go?” Claudia asked as she emerged from the hallway, putting some papers - more prescriptions - into her purse. She turned to Joyce. “We always stop by Burger King on our way home, you want to join us?”

“No, no, we have leftovers at home,” Joyce said, completely missing the excited look appearing and subsequently disappearing on her son’s face. “Bob’s joining us for dinner, so...Jonathan’s heating it up for us.”

“Okie-dokie,” Claudia chirped and took Jamie’s arm to walk outside with her. She whispered conspiratorially. “We’re getting milkshakes too, doctor’s orders. Don’t tell Dustin.”

##

“I still can’t believe you got Hershey’s Chocolate Hand Spun Shakes without me.”

“It’s not good for your teeth, Dusty.”

“Like _one_ creamy, luscious and chocolatey sweet shake would do permanent damage to these pearly whites?” Dustin complained again, reciting the most annoying commercial on television right now for Burger King’s Shakes of ‘84. “I know my toothbrushing, mom, 2:3o minutes, twice a day.”

“This was a special treat for Jamie, Dusty-bear. You know, these check-ups aren’t fun all the time.”

“What, so, if I get stabbed in the arm with a couple of needles I get a milkshake too?”

“Dusty!”

Jamie pretended not to see the gestures her mom made her way, trying to convey to Dustin that he needed to show more tact. She focused on her bowl of soggy cereal, tuning out the other occupants of the kitchen. Last night, their mom had picked up Dustin from the Wheelers, then he had found the empty milkshake cups and had not shut up about it since. Jamie had heard him complain all the way up the stairs and even while doing his so-called 2:30 toothbrushing about this unfairness. He probably had a point, their mom did discriminate between the two of them, but Jamie would easily have given up all treats and gifts just to go back to the way things used to be.

The cat - Mews - strutted into the kitchen, purring by Claudia’s legs and was rewarded with a re-fill to his food bowl. The little head bent down to eat and every time he did, he pulled back his little cat lips to reveal a white set of teeth. Small, pointy, needle sharp and she had had thousands of those in-

“Hellooooo, this is Earth, calling Planet Jamie!”

Jamie blinked and recoiled from the chubby hand waving half an inch in front of her face.

“W-what? Did you say something?” Jamie stuttered, struggling to bring the real world back into focus. Dustin returned to his seat with a huff and brought up his semi-functioning Muon Trap. Claudia sent her a concerned look, one that Jamie tried to ignore as best she could.

“Okay, so check this out!” Dustin said, in a voice that indicated this was a repeat-performance. He flicked a switch on the trap and it sprung open. Switch back, trap shut. Jamie, with a spoon of cereal halfway to her mouth, met her brother’s unfamiliar grin. It was the same grin, it was just the teeth that were new. He mistook her deadpanned expression for silent awe and repeated showing of the trap’s mechanism. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“I guess?”

Dustin, not one to be perturbed by someone else’s lack of enthusiasm, jumped up to sit on the kitchen table and opened up a small panel on the trap. “Okay, so I got this chain-drive system here to open and close the trap, driven by this tiny AC-motor, but it only works like 90% of the time and I thought maybe it was some bad connection, but I looked at the soldering and I can’t find any crossovers.”

“Okay?” Jamie said and pushed away the small circuit board Dustin had shoved into her face so she could actually see it.

“Okay, so, yeah, can you give me a hand?”

“Uh,” was Jamie’s only reply as she turned the board over in her hands. What was she even looking for? She had known this stuff before, right? She was just out of practice. The soldering was a patchwork of droplets, Dustin’s less than sophisticated style, but she could not for the life of her concentrate enough to follow the circuit through. Dropping the board and rubbing her temples - headache acting up again - she shrugged. “I can’t help you.”

“Oh,”Dustin said and returned the board to its position into the trap itself. Jamie stared into the table while again ignoring the silent exchange between her mom and her brother. Dustin had thrown his hands out in exasperation, while his mother just shook her head to make him back off. Jamie returned to her cereal, now just a mashed up mess of cornflakes and milk, while Claudia twittered something about a photo session to document Dustin’s Halloween-costume. In Middle School they still dressed up for the whole day - Jamie suspected half the student body would be suspended for indecency if the high-schoolers showed up to school in their Halloween costumes.

Dustin biked to school, proton-pack on his back, while Jamie got a ride from Claudia. It was on her way to work anyhow. Last year, Jamie took the bus. On the ride, in-between the mindless chatter of her mom, she was prompted about her medication.

“You took two this morning? And you brought it with you to take two at lunch?”

“Yes, mom.”

“Remember to take it on an empty-”

“Empty stomach, yes, _I know,_ mom.”

It was the same every day. Every week. Every month. Her grades were slipping too, but her mom was still tip-toeing around her, too afraid to upset her by asking about it. Suited Jamie just fine, she did not appreciate all these conversations centered around her wellbeing.

“Have a nice day, sweetie!” her mom called after her and Jamie responded with a grunt and slamming the door behind her. She was supposed to have taken her driver’s license during spring, but had unfortunately spent that time at the hospital. In a coma. Now she probably was the only junior at Hawkins High that depended on their _mom_ to drive them everywhere.

Leaving her mom sitting in the car, Jamie made her way to her locker, one that she was lucky to have right next to Carol. The tiny brunette leaned against her own locker, surrounded by her female friends, scrutinizing Jamie’s appearance from top to bottom. Jamie bowed her head down and concentrated on getting the combination right. Just as she got the locker open, Carol drawled from behind the door:

_“Oh God, Henderson. Didn’t anyone tell you that acid wash went out of style while you were in a coma?”_

One of her nameless groupies answered. _“I wouldn’t really say that she was a fashion icon before her coma either.”_

Ignoring the incessant giggling and the flaming sensation happening in the base of her neck, Jamie grabbed the textbooks she needed and slammed the locker shut. Carol said something more to her, something that the general murmuring of the hallway luckily drowned out. Jamie checked her watch, a clunky Casio G-Shock she inherited after her dad, and figured the guys would all be in the physics lab before first period.

They were and predictably they were in the middle of a heated discussion, usually concerning trivial matters like what resistance would prevent the newest gadget from overheating and/or explode.

“All I’m saying is that the formula dictates that it should be _at least_ 120 kilo ohms, _at least,_ Dickson!”

“Then you’re basically just terminating the circuit, Lou! Why bother with a resistor, why not just direct it straight to ground and let your magical dreams power the generator!”

Louie, a tall and lanky kid with inch-thick glasses, stuttered in his eagerness to prove Frankie Dickson wrong. “W-wh-when we built this last year-”

“We did not build this-”

“WHEN WE BUILT THAT WORKING SELF-MOVING VACUUM THAT IS BASICALLY THE SAME THING AS,” Louie shouted before calming down, “this self-cleaning sandwich maker, Henderson had us use 120k’s to stop the leds from melting.” Louie pushed the glasses up on his face and gestured towards Jamie. “Henderson! Tell this imbecile that my equation is correct.”

Jamie looked at the board where his chicken-scratches ended with an answer of 120 000 ohms. The guys all watched her, even Connor had paused his wiring to look at her. She shrugged, not bothered to make an effort. “Looks right? I don’t know.”

Louie, Frankie D and Connor - all three honorary members of the PhysEng-club - stared at her in silence.

“Well that settles it,” Frankie snorted and Louie made a rude gesture his way. Frankie was permanently tan, with thick black hair and an ever present downy mustache grazing his upper lip. Connor was half Chinese and stood at least a foot shorter than Louie. He bent back down to focus on wiring the mechanism together. There were a couple of other guys in the club as well, less dedicated than this trio, but no other girls than Jamie.

“You okay, Henderson?” Louie asked, pushing his glasses up again.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine,” Jamie said and realized that she had just stood there awkwardly while they were working. “Uh, what time are we supposed to meet up tonight?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Jamie knew she had said something wrong, but had no idea what. She tugged awkwardly on the long acid-wash jean shirt she was wearing. Frankie, Lou and Connor all exchanged glances, neither of them wanting to be the first one to say something. Instead they all started at the same time.

“Uh, we’re kinda dropping movie night-”

“-planned it back in May or something-”

“-didn’t know if you were coming back-”

“-thought you had plans with Harrington and-”

“-not sure if you were into that kind of-”

“Guys, please!” Jamie said, raising her voice ever so slightly. This was giving her a headache. Rubbing her temple with one hand, she squinted at them. “There’s no movie night this year?”

“Uh, no, we - uh - we got tickets for the pre-screening of ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’,” Frankie finally said after some false starts. “Made plans back in May.”

“Oh, cool,” Jamie said, briefly remembering seeing some trailers for the new slasher-fic being released this year. “Is it a dress-up kind of thing or...?”

“Uhhhh.” Louie picked absentmindedly on a protruding zit on his chin. “We kinda only got three tickets. In May. When you were still-”

“In the hospital,” Connor quickly filled in.

Jamie’s stomach dropped to the pits of her feet. “Oh.”

“We sort of assumed you already had plans with Harrington and the others, you know, because you hang out with them all the time now, Harrington and the others,” Frankie explained with expansive hand-gestures. “In fact you hang out with Harrington and the others so much you’re barely here anymore and...”

“Oh, yeah, no, totally,” Jamie said to cover up the burning crawling up her neck. She looked down, swallowed that pesky lump now stuck in her throat, and smiled brightly when she straightened back up. “We’re going to Tina’s Halloween Bash. You didn’t get an invite?”

Frankie’s jaw had dropped. “You’re going to Tina’s Halloween Bash. With Harrington?”

“No, I’m not going with Steve specifically,” she hastily said, lest she start some rumors that would tarnish her newfound friendship with Nancy. “There’s a whole bunch of us going. Me, Steve, Nancy and...and Jonathan.”

“ _Steve?”_ Frankie retorted in an incredulous tone, and Jamie now recalled the incessant teasing Frankie had endured at the hands of Steve Harrington during the years. “He’s just _Steve_ to you now?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Louie interrupted. “Jonathan as in _Byers?_ Harrington’s going with Wheeler, so you’re going with Jonathan Byers?”

Jamie blinked, unsure what insecure teenage-hormone made her say this, but kept on going with it. “Yeah. Totally.”

##

The costume was not as expected. First of all, it was the wrong Madonna.

Okay, so her mom hadn’t accidentally picked up a costume for the literal Mother of God, not _that_ wrong Madonna. But she had picked up a costume that was a knock-off what the pop-star had worn in her newest music video, not the ‘Holiday’-look Jamie had craved since she first saw the video. Jamie stared at herself in the mirror, picking at the ruffles, looking very much ‘Like a Virgin’ in her all-white ensemble.

“Oh my GOD, honey, you look great! Oooh, stay right there, I gotta get the camera!”

Her mom had helped her with the hair and make-up first. Her usual brown curls were brushed out and teased and sprayed with 5oz. of hairspray so it fanned about her face like a lion’s mane, a large white bow sitting on top as an out of place crown. She had never worn make-up like this either, her baby-blue eyes popping out of a sea of darkness from all the eyeshadow her mother had smeared on. Not that she would ever say it out loud, but she actually liked the lips. That was one feature they both inherited from their mom, full lips, and now they were painted a deep luscious red.

“Okay, so if you’d just stand right here, aaaaand say ‘Halloween’!”

Jamie followed her mom’s ministrations to document Halloween-night for both her children. The more pictures taken, the more Jamie started wishing _she_ had gone as the Ghostbusters. The costume was tight, short, ruffled and extravagant. Every time she moved, the skirt hiked up, the bustier slipped down, the fishnet stockings twisted around or the long necklaces got stuck in the tulle of the skirt. The only thing staying put was the opaque black tights she wore underneath the fishnets. Her left leg looked scary on its own, but it was not the vibe she was going for with this costume.

She caught glimpses of herself in the mirror as her mom directed her into different poses. It did not look like her at all, which was a welcome fact at this point. If no-one recognized her, no-one could bully her later either. Of course, if that was the endgame, she could always copy her costume from last year when she had worn a hockey mask and carried a fake hunting knife. Before she got far enough in planning to change costumes without her mother noticing, a car honked from outside.

“That must be your friends!” her mom exclaimed and blissfully packed away the camera. According to the clock hanging on the living room wall, it probably was. Nancy had cornered her after AP English earlier, a class she used to enjoy but now every question seemed intent on making her doubt herself, grabbing her by the arm and walking with her down the hallway. Jamie wondered if this was how she used to act with Barbara, last year. With a bit more enthusiasm than Jamie thought necessary, Nancy had proclaimed that Steve could pick them both up at around eight-ish. It was now eight-ish.

“Okay, are you all set? Did you take your medication?”

“Yes, mom.”

Claudia hesitated, making Jamie look up from where she was pulling on her wedged sneakers. The costume was bad enough without her wobbling around on white pumps too, so this was a compromise.

“Just...just know that you can call me, if it gets too much or something happens or you just want to come home, then _call me_. I’ll come pick you up, any time and any place.” To Jamie’s horror there were tears poised in the corners of her mom’s eyes. She sniffled and choked out: “Okay?”

The car honked again.

“Uh...sure, mom.”

“Ev-even if you think you’ll get in trouble. Call me, please.”

Jamie stared at her mom, dressed up as a black cat to greet all the trick-or-treaters coming knocking by later on. She had picked up Mews while Jamie struggled with her shoes, and held the tabby cat close to her chest, giving some authenticity to her costume by adding real cat-hairs. “Uh, okay?”

“Okay. Have fun, baby.”

Steve laid on the horn again just as Jamie got out of the front door. Steve and Nancy were sitting in the front seats of the dark-red BMW sedan Steve’s dad had gotten him for his 16th birthday. It was an expensive car, but at least it had four doors and she could easily slide into the backseat, the blast of some rock-band streaming from the radio hitting her on the way in. For some reason, Steve had sunglasses on, but whipped them off when she got in the car to turn around and stare.

“Wow, Henderson!”

Nancy turned too and smiled. “Your costume looks amazing!”

They both looked amazing too, dressed up a bit more low-key as the main characters of the movie ‘Risky Business’. Of course, Nancy and Steve could dress up as ewoks and still look amazing.

“Thanks,” Jamie said and tugged on the ruffled skirt, now creeping up her thighs. “Uh, my mom got it for me.”

Which might have been the single un-coolest thing Jamie had ever said. Despite this, Steve nodded.

“Cool.” He started the car - purring it into first gear - and cruised down the brightly lit street, riddled with Halloween decorations and dressed-up kids.

“Uh, wher-where’s Jonathan?” Jamie asked, as she was the single occupant of the expansive backseat. She tried not to touch the interior too much. There were _stories_ going around about the backseat of Steve’s Beemer.

“Byers?” Steve asked quickly. He looked between the road and Nancy. “Didn’t know he was coming with us? Do we have to go back to pick him up?”

“Oh, he promised his mom to go trick-or-treating with Will and the guys, he’ll come by later,” Nancy said dismissively. Steve must have given her a look, because she shrugged excessively. “He needs to get out more. Don’t worry, I think he’ll be his own ride.”

The car fell silent, apart from the music. Compared to the sleek costumes Nancy and Steve were in, Jamie felt like an overstuffed birthday cake back there. This was her first ever high-school party, not counting the countless movie nights with just enough beers to give them a buzz in Frankie D’s basement. What if all high-schoolers wore these kind of discreet costumes? What if all the other people going to the party had boyfriends or girlfriends? It was bad enough being the third wheel on Nancy and Steve’s wagon. Hopefully Jonathan would be at the party, so they could be awkward together rather than alone.

It was a twenty minute drive to Tina’s house. Her parents were away, a long and tried tradition on Halloween, and their house sat on the edge of the block, away from any neighbors tempted to call the police on loud music or underage drinking. They heard the music long before they saw the house, the incessant thumping overpowering Steve’s car-radio. Cars were parked at random as far as fifty yards from the house and it looked like the party had overflowed from inside the four walls to outside. It was a warm night, but still the night to November 1st and it could not have been more than 50 degrees out. That did not appear to phase the high-schoolers in their various states of undressed. She had not needed to worry about her costume being over the top. At least it was a complete outfit.

Jamie’s palms were sweaty underneath the white lace gloves. It was like an oven inside, heated by the excessive amounts of hot, sweaty teenagers jumping and grinding away at the dance floor. Ten seconds indoors and it was pretty obvious why there were so many outside in the yard. At once, the hair clung to the back of her neck. There - were - people - _everywhere!_ On the couch, on the dance floor, on the stairs, draped across the bannister, sitting on the kitchen counters. It was hard to believe there were this many people in Hawkins, let alone attending Hawkins High.

“I’ll get us some drinks!” Steve shouted over the music and left Jamie and Nancy by the open door to the backyard. There were a throng of people hovered around some large metal drums, chanting loudly at one person who was doing a handstand on one of the barrels.

“Twenty-one! Twenty-two! Twenty- OOOOOOHHH!”

The guy tipped forward over the barrel and face-planted on the grass. It earned a chorus of laughter and hoots from the crowd. One of the taller guys shouted something and in no time, he was on top of that barrel instead. The end of a hose was placed in his mouth and the crowd started counting in synch again.

“One! Two! Three!”

This guy made it to twelve before he started choking on what could only be beer and keeled over too.

“How men are in charge of the world when they engage in contests like this are beyond me,” Nancy commented drily, having noticed where Jamie’s attention was fixed. Her lip lifted in an unimpressed frown, as if just recalling an uncomfortable fact. “Steve holds the current record at Hawkins High. Don’t let him try and defend the title, he won’t be able to drive us home.”

The record-holder in question burst through the crowd with three red solo-cups filled with orange fruit punch. He handed one to each and smiled: “What’cha talking about?”

“Girl stuff,” Nancy replied with a tight-lipped smile before Jamie could even begin to form a reply. “Come on, let’s go dance.”

By dance, Nancy meant hang on the edge of the dance floor, watching the other people dancing. It was probably just a ruse to get Steve away from watching the competition outside. Jamie held onto her solo-cup like a lifeline. The punch had a bitter aftertaste, even though it looked like kool-aid, but it gave her something to do with her hands. Nancy clung onto Steve, talking in low voices between themselves, leaving Jamie stuck with a half-coherent guy dressed as Fred Flintstone trying to engage her in conversation.

“Don’t think I’v-ve seen you beforsh?” He was so stooped over he was talking directly to her chest.

“Uh, I think we have History together? With Mrs. Kelly?”

“Whaaaat?”

She excused herself to get more punch. As she tried to figure out if there was a ladle or something to go with the punch bowl, the crowd outside erupted again with loud cheering and a name being shouted over and over again, barely heard over the loud Mötley Crue-song: “Billy! Billy! Billy!”

Another ‘Like a Virgin’-Madonna - there were at least three of them at the party - came up to the punch bowl, gave Jamie a disdainful once-over, and dipped her entire empty cup into the bowl to fill it up. Aha. No ladle then. Not completely sanitary, but desperate times calls for desperate measures. Her throat was parched. The bitter aftertaste had to be imaginary, there was no trace of it now.

Nancy came over with a scowl to refill her cup. Behind her, Steve looked to be in some kind of staring contest with that new guy from California. He was apparently dressed up as someone allergic to shirts, as his bare chest gleamed underneath his black leather jacket. Tommy H, dressed up as Karate Kid, was right next to California-guy, getting up into Steve’s face.

“Hawkins has a new Keg King,” was Nancy’s only explanation, coupled with an extensive eye-roll as she took a sip. She grimaced at the taste of the punch and turned to address a Floral Roman - he’d made a toga out of a floral bedsheet - who had downed an entire cup in one go. “Hey, what’s in this?”

“Pure fuel!” he replied, not even looking her way. He repeated in a louder voice: “Pure fuel! Whoo!”

It ended in a burp, before he dived back into the party. Jamie stared into her cup. It didn’t taste like actual fuel. It was probably some kind of caffeinated lemonade, like Gatorade, because she was feeling more awake by the minute. She was still hot though, sweating through her white bustier and tulle. To make matters worse, Nancy wanted to dance. She dragged Jamie by the arm out to the packed dance floor and began to move in a jerky rhythm to the rock song. Steve joined, but Nancy seemed to try and shut him out, dancing more towards Jamie than her boyfriend, ending up making them look like the most awkward threesome ever.

“I’m too hot!” Jamie finally shouted after three songs and pointed to her cup. Nancy nodded and reluctantly danced alone with Steve. The wedged sneakers seemed to have grown in height, as Jamie stumbled over to the kitchen. Sweat poured off her now, and she could only imagine how her mascara looked. Not that it mattered, she could just claim to be the Bride of Frankenstein or something if she looked too ghoulish. The punch bowl had been refilled and Jamie got a full cup of it. She downed it in one go, trying to quench her thirst. It was lukewarm, but it did not matter.

A couple were making out on top of the kitchen counter, but Jamie fumbled around them in search of some paper towels to dab her face with. “Pardon, pardon, excuse me.” They either didn’t hear her or didn’t care, as their lips never released from each other’s when she reached around them to grab a dishcloth. It came back with traces of both her lipstick and eyeshadow, and probably that fake beauty mark her mom had painted on too. She continued to wipe at her neck and further down in-between her breasts when she realized she was being watched.

Some guy wearing a hardhat and overalls had his jaw somewhere down by his knees, hypnotized by her motions down by her chest. Grimacing, she turned her hand and placed her middle finger in his line of sight, mouthing “Piss off!” when his head snapped up. Perv. He sidled off, leaving Jamie scowling, trying to cool off. Compared to at least two of the other Madonnas, she hardly filled out this bustier at all. Which was not fair, considering how she used to have plenty of extra meat on her bones, but it all centered further down on her hips and thighs. Another trait she got from her dad’s side of the family, a solid pear-shape topped with a head full of wild curls. Family reunions looked like a gathering of Highland cows.

She snorted down into her cup. Highland cows. Classic.

“You look hot!” a guy dressed solely in a kilt and nothing else shouted to her. He offered to refill her cup and she let him.

“I know, it’s like a sauna in here!” she shouted back and raised her cup in a small cheers, before taking a large gulp. The guy furrowed his brows and shook his head.

“No, I mean that- uh, never mind. I’m Darren!”

“I’m Jamie!” They toasted their cups again and drank more. And more. And more.

Time seemed to blur and lump together, the music seesawing in and out of focus. Before she knew it, she found herself hanging on the stairway bannister, talking to Darren who she thought was on the basketball team with Steve. Not that she heard a word he was saying, the music was too loud and the room was spinning too fast. Judging by the faraway look on his face, he wasn’t saying anything worthwhile though, so it was probably okay.

Jamie squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. The room was spinning really fast. She usually didn’t get seasick, but apparently could get house-sick. Her stomach lurched and protested against the perceived motions. Maybe she shouldn’t have eaten those chips left out on the kitchen table before, who knew how many hands had been grabbing and sweating in that bowl? Oh God. That was not a helpful thought.

Sweat prickling her upper lip, she shoved Darren to get his attention. “Where’s the bathroom?”

She must have looked like a corpse, because he quickly pointed upwards on the stairs she was already on. Every step proved to be a challenge, her insides threatening to make an appearance with each elevation. More people in the hallway upstairs, but the bathtub-sign on one of the doors looked promising. One hand to her stomach, she grabbed the door handle with the other.

Locked.

“Oh, no, no, no,” she muttered and swallowed thickly. The knob would not turn, even though she gave it a few more goes. Screw social conventions! With a tight fist, she knocked a dozen times on the door. And then a dozen more. Time was running out. The door rattled as she hammered on the flimsy wood. _“Please let me in, I gotta throw up! Please, please, please, please-”_

Someone grumbled from inside what sounded suspiciously like “Jesus Christ!”, but that didn’t matter because the door opened.

“Oh thank God,” Jamie breathed and pushed the previous occupant out of the way. She dived for the toilet-bowl just in time as her stomach-contents came rushing up her throat. The liquid - still bright red - burned her esophagus and left her eyes stinging. Her back twisted and flexed with each wretch until only spit dribbled from her open mouth. Still nauseauted, she waited it out over the bowl until she heard a tell-tale _click_ from beside her.

“Wh-why are you locking the door?” she asked while wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, soiling the white lace in the process. The guy who had let her in gave her a pitying stare with deep hooded eyes. It was California. Had to be. This was the first good look she’d gotten at him, but she didn’t know of anyone else in Hawkins that would rock one ear-ring or a curly mullet.

“Because I still gotta piss and don’t want any more freshman girls barging in here.”

“Aw, gross,” Jamie slobbered and flushed the toilet to get rid of the evidence. She stumbled to her feet. “Just lemme get out of here, I don’t wanna see that.”

She didn’t get far. The room tilted and she had to scramble for a hold on the sink to stay upright. California stalked past her without giving her a hand. An unlit cigarette dangled from his mouth.

“Room still spinning?” he asked from over his shoulder. The jingle of a belt buckle made Jamie realize he was undoing his jeans and she turned away. Her feet didn’t agree with her and she ended up tumbling into a ball next to the laundry basket.

To answer his question, she moaned a: “Yeaaah.”

California had his back to her, fully focused on the task at hand. “Then you might wanna stay in here a little longer, you’ll see.”

He followed up this statement by doing what he’d come here for and she grimaced at the sound of guy-peeing. She’d sometimes hear Dustin get up at night and the noise seemed to echo through the house. It was like they made an effort to make it as loud as possible.

“Jeez,” was her comment and she turned to face the wall next to her. It was cool marble, and she ended up resting her cheek on it. The guy finished his task, flushed, and was in the middle of doing up his jeans when Jamie felt another round coming.

“Move!”

She shoved at his legs and barely reached the porcelain in time. Stomach acid and fruit punch erupted out her mouth. The guy snickered from somewhere behind her. “Told ya.”

Too occupied to speak, she settled for giving him the finger over her back. When there didn’t seem to be more coming, she flopped down on her butt and pulled the handle a few times to make it flush again. One arm dangling across the toilet bowl, one hand on the floor to keep herself upright. California gave her an unreadable look from where he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, apparently applying baby oil to his chest.

“What the hell have you been drinking anyway?”

She pointed at the solo-cup standing on the sink, left there in her hurry to get to the toilet the first time. He picked it up with a tan large hand and sniffed the contents.

“Punch,” Jamie slurred.

“I bet,” he said and tipped the remaining contents into the sink. He went back to checking himself out in the mirror. “Here’s a tip for ya, Madge. Stick with beer next time, at least you’ll know the ABV.”

Jamie’s eyebrows went up and down and together before resting back in their place. “Som-someone spiked the punch?”

California snorted, in the middle of fluffing up his hair. He really liked looking at himself in the mirror. Now he tried out different expressions, winking at himself and biting his lip. “Everyone spiked the punch, baby.”

“Oh.” Jamie’s head rolled sideways and her eyes slipped dangerously close. “I’m not supposed to have alcohol.” She took a deep breath and blinked a few times to force her eyes back open. “I think I should just go home.”

“Probably not a bad idea,” the guy agreed. He was busy opening up the cabinets, picking out perfume bottles to sniff at, making a face at each one he didn’t like. His eyes were really blue, even if they were half-hidden by his heavy eyelids. Jamie noticed this when he turned to look at her and subsequently rolled his eyes. Next thing she knew, he’d shoved the solo-cup back under her nose, but now it was filled with tap-water. “Rinse and drink.”

She took a tiny sip, let it roll around in her mouth and dutifully spit it out in the toilet. Next sip she swallowed. Her stomach wasn’t giving of any emergency alerts, but it was still not calm enough for her to go back down and join the party. In all honesty, she just wanted to go home and sleep. The previous buzz and energy she’d gotten from the punch had evaporated as fast as it came.

“You got a ride home?”

Her eyes had slipped close again and she opened them wide. California slipped in and out of focus. “Yeah. Yeah, I came her with Steve and Nancy.”

This got his attention. He leaned on the sink and crossed a pair of muscular arms across his chest. “Steve Harrington?”

  
She nodded. “And Nancy.”

“There’s a trick I need to learn.” He smirked, as if impressed despite himself.“One thing to date two chicks at the same time, but to bring both of them to the same party...Ooh, that’s on a whole ‘nother level.”

Jamie burped into her mouth. She did not have enough capacity to pay attention to any sentences longer than three words. “Whatever.”

“You done puking?”

She shrugged, the best answer she could give. Her eyes were burning with the effort of keeping them open, it was much more comfortable to just let them fall shut. California said something that didn’t register with her and she shrugged again, hoping it would make him leave her alone. No avail, as he grabbed hold of one of her arms and jerked her up to standing.

“If you puke on me I’ll kill you, you got that?” he muttered and hefted her up so she was held upright by his own body. Her left arm was slung across his neck, where he held it in place. His other arm had a tight grip on her waist. He half-supported, half-carried her to the bathroom door, that opened to reveal a girl named Samantha that was in Jamie’s year.

“Oh my God!” she blurted at the sight, but Jamie couldn’t even keep her head up for more than a few seconds at a time to look at her. The costume was good. She was dressed as Siouxsie Sioux from Siouxsie and the Banshees. Why hadn’t she thought of that, instead of this stupid Madonna-outfit? “Oh, Jamie! Uhm. Oh... I’m so sorry.”

“‘s okay,” Jamie slurred from her place by California’s side.

“So you know?”

“No? Know what?”

“That Jonathan left with Nancy Wheeler? Only, I heard that you guys were a thing, but - uh - maybe I heard wrong, I dunno?” Samantha said quickly, gesturing to Jamie and California with some sort of strange hand-motion that indicated togetherness.

“I’m not together with Nancy,” Jamie mumbled, not that anyone seemed to hear it. From her position, she felt the low rumble vibrating through her when California talked in a low voice to Samantha, who managed to blush even through the heavy layer of white face-paint she had on. Jamie’s eyes closed on their own, until she was jerked awake again by California maneuvering her down the stairs.

_“Oy, Harrington!”_

More moving, while Jamie’s head lolled around like a badly hinged bobble-head. California almost threw her into the arms of someone, who luckily had enough strength to keep her upright as her knees were bending on their own accord. The person kept one arm around her to keep her from falling over.

“This yours?” California asked and Jamie rested her head on the other person’s shoulder. Wisps of hair tickled her nose. Aha. Steve. California must have leaned close to Steve’s face as well, because it was as if he was talking directly into Jamie’s ear. “Heard your main chick left with someone else. Thought I’d be nice and at least let you take home the runner-up.”

If Steve answered, Jamie didn’t hear it. She fell asleep in Steve’s arms and would forever hate herself for not even remembering it.


	2. Chapter 2

Whoever decided to throw a party on a school-night deserved to be shot. Not that she actively condoned violence on Tina Nolan, but at the moment she was not completely against it either. Morning began pretty much how the night ended, with Jamie hanging over the toilet bowl and wrenching her guts out. Her alarm had gone off at 7:00, like always, and she knocked it off the stand so hard it now lay smashed in pieces on her bedroom floor. It did wake her though, kick-starting her bodily processes and leaving her rushing to the bathroom.

Her mom would come wake her up at 7:30 if she failed to show at breakfast and Jamie tried to concoct a believable story to allow her to stay at home for the day. A look into the mirror confirmed her fears. Steve might’ve taken her home last night, but she had taken herself to bed without removing her make-up and it was smeared all over her face. She could go straight to another Halloween-party, but now dressed up as Minnie the Clown.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door, small hard raps that couldn’t be anyone else but Dustin.

“Go away!” Jamie groaned.

The knocking increased. “Jamie? Jamie, open up!”

“Go away, Dusty!”

_bang bang bang bang bang_

Her little brother’s annoying voice penetrated the woodwork, an increasing level of anxiety in his voice. “Jamie! JAMIE! Open up, Jamie, I have to show you something! JAMIE! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME, YOU SON OF A-”

“GO AWAY, DUSTIN!” she screamed for all she was worth.

“No, you don’t understand, you have to-”

“GOOOOOOO AWAAAAAY!”

The door rattled - Dustin had probably kicked it. “Ugh, _fine!_ But when I’m famous, you’ll be sorry you just ignored me and...”

His voice faded, but she could hear him muttering all the way back to his room. A door slammed. Jamie rolled her eyes. Dustin’s early morning dramatics usually concerned some cool invention he’d thought of last night and needed help building or a full-on dream analysis to find out if his pubertal fantasies about some of the girls in his year would ever come true. He always made it seem like an emergency. It usually wasn’t.

Jamie wiped at her face with some paper towels, but forfeited and jumped into the shower instead. Every limb of her body was three times heavier than usual, and Jamie hadn’t even washed her hair yet when her mom knocked on the bathroom door.

“Honey? Are you okay in there?”

She groaned and tried to drown out the voice by putting her head under the stream of water. The bathroom was quickly filling up with steam, and if she tried, she could pretend she was still asleep and in some dream world of clouds and fairytales.

Another knock. “You got in pretty late last night.”

Oh great, a lecture, just what she needed. Jamie scrubbed at her face, still sticky with make-up and sweat. The lecture never came though. Instead, her mom asked carefully through the closed bathroom door: “Do you need to stay home today? I could call the school if you’d like...”

With inhuman speed, Jamie wrenched the shower-knob back to shut the water off. “Yes!”

She waited until both her mom and Dustin had left the house before she emerged from the bathroom. Dustin had grumbled and cursed about not being able to use the main bathroom, but had instead been directed into the guest bathroom in the hallway, which was basically just a cubicle with a toiled and a sink. The Henderson were not as well off as the Harringtons or even the Wheelers, who had one bathroom per bedroom. Her parents always talked about remodeling, to get a second bathroom next to the master bedroom, but they’d never gotten around to it. Then her dad left and now her mom was too concerned about paying the mortgage to even consider doing any remodeling.

With the house empty, apart from her mom’s cat, she went through the kitchen to find anything edible that she thought she could stomach. She munched on leftover Halloween candy and eyed the orange pill bottle sitting innocently on the window sill. Doctor Owens had said _unwanted side-effects_ if she mixed those pills with alcohol. No expert, Jamie still thought that what happened last night was just plain old intoxication, not side-effects. She wasn’t completely sure if there were any alcohol still left in her system with all the throwing-up, but it was probably best to play it safe. If she waited a day to take the pills, she should be plenty safe.

Even in the solitude of her own kitchen, Jamie’s face burned at the thought of last night. She had fallen asleep on Steve Harrington’s shoulder, then he must have _carried_ her to his car, because the next thing she remembered was zooming past the sleeping town on their way to her house. He had been talking incessantly too, the whole car-ride, something about Nancy and drinking and...Barb? It was a bit of a blur to be honest. She did remember him cursing out that _goddamn punch_ , wondering what was in it that caused complete personality-changes on all the girls.

Oooh, the chocolate was not helping her condition. Stumbling back into the bathroom, she almost hissed at the glaring fluorescent light. That was way too bright for comfort, how had she never noticed that before? Her fingers fumbled to find the light switch, but when she did, she could almost see more clearly in the dark than when the light was on. Probably a faulty bulb. A look into the tall mirror encompassing one entire wall of the bathroom told her everything she needed to know. To keep it short, she looked as bad as she felt. Her usually healthy olive complexion was a ghastly shade of white, almost like Samantha’s make-up last night, and her scattering of freckles looked like flies on sweaty cheese. Her curls hung limp by her face, still damp from the shower, and she was not sure if the dark circles underneath her eyes were from make-up she hadn’t managed to clean off or just fatigue.

The phone rang, an ear-splitting shrieking noise and Jamie ran out to the kitchen to the wall-hanging receiver.

“Hello?” she barked and swallowed. The running had not agreed with her stomach, and she wondered if she would make it back if she had to vomit again.

The voice on the other end was shaky and female. “Hi, uhm...Is Jamie there?”

Nancy.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Jamie pinched the bridge of her nose. She checked the clock, Nancy had skipped school today too.

“Oh, good, I wasn’t sure you’d be home, it’s only third period,” Nancy said and her wobbly voice indicated she’d been crying. “Uhm...You haven’t talked to Steve today, have you? Only, I tried calling him, but I guess he’s in school and...” Her voice cracked completely and Jamie struggled to make out what she was saying through the sobs: “Oh God, Jamie, I think I really messed up last night. I told Steve that our relationship was bullshit and-”

She kept on talking, but Jamie had to put the receiver by her shoulder to keep herself from vomiting all over her mom’s linoleum floor. This sounded suspiciously like much of the same content that Steve had talked about during the car-ride home yesterday. She leaned her head back against the wall. Her brain pulsated with painful throbs every heartbeat and her stomach made rebellious motions every time she moved. On top of that, she thought she was coming down with a fever.

Jamie picked the receiver back up and interrupted Nancy mid-sentence and mid-cry. “Nancy? I’m not feeling too good. And to be honest, I don’t really care about you and Steve or you and Jonathan or you and any other guy right now. I’m not Barb. Sorry.”

She hung up.

That was cruel, but not as cruel as her headache. Jamie shut off all the lights in her house and crawled back into bed.

##

The phone rang again. Jamie laid awake in her bed listening to it ring. Maybe her mom had changed the batteries or something, because she couldn’t remember it being this loud. Normally she barely heard it in her room, but now it sounded like it was just next to her on the bed. The house was lay dormant otherwise, Dustin or her mom hadn’t come home yet. With a grunt, she got out of bed to answer the phone.

It was the library, calling to complain about a certain Mr. Dustin Henderson, and Jamie “Uh-huh”-ed until the librarian-lady was satisfied and hung up. He’d checked out too many books or something. What a problematic 8th-grader. She rubbed her taut stomach thoughtfully. God, she was hungry. Still lazy, she opted for eating a handful of cereal at once and then downing some milk straight from the carton. The doorbell rang just as she’d flipped the carton upside down to get to the last drops.

She wiped her mouth and checked the clock. It was too early for anyone to be home, so she had no idea who could come calling at their house. Only one way to find out.

“Steve?” Jamie asked, wincing at the daylight and the waft of hairspray attacking her nostrils. It was Steve, with his hair sticking up defiantly to oppose his otherwise deflated demeanor.

“Hey,” he said, leaning on her doorway. Behind him, the Beemer stood idle in her mom’s usual parking spot. “You weren’t in class today. Thought I’d check on you.”

“Uh, I’m fine,” Jamie said and used the door to support her upright position. Steve’s eyebrow rose, but he refrained from commenting the obvious fact that she did _not_ look fine. Neither did he, of course, but at least he’d made an effort. She scoured her brain for something else to say. “Thanks for the ride home.”

“Oh, you remember that?” Steve picked at the cuffs of his corduroy jacket. “Funny. Nancy couldn’t remember anything from last night - thought maybe that punch was spiked with more than vodka.”

Oh God, more Nancy. Okay. Jamie squeezed her eyes shut and listened to the bitterness of Steve’s voice as he recalled how she’d come up to him in gym-class, all pissed that he hadn’t picked her up that morning, like she wasn’t the one who’d broken up with him last night. And for Jonathan Byers, of all people. Come on. To make matters worse, she acted all innocent about it, and then had the audacity to have lunch with Jonathan, sitting atop that beaten up Ford LTD.

“Anyway, what were you doing with that douchebag Hargrove anyway?”

Jamie shifted gears, trying to pay attention now that he was done talking about his girlfriend, ex or otherwise. “What? Who?”

“Billy Hargrove? He practically carried you down from upstairs, you were pretty out of it,” Steve said, but he made it sound like a question. A concerned furrow was placed between his immaculate brows. His hand clenched and unclenched on the doorway. “Uh, he didn’t... _do_ anything to you, did he? ‘Cause I swear to God, I’ll bea-”

“What? No! Ew,” Jamie said, even the thought of it making bile rise in her throat again. “He just talked and stared at himself in the mirror.”

“Uh-huh.” No way of telling if Steve believed her, but what did it matter to him anyway? “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look a little off for it just to be a hangover.”

“Think maybe I’m coming down with a flu. Or something. If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go back to bed.”

“Oh, uhm,” Steve said hurriedly as he grabbed the door before she could shut it completely. “Just, uh, have you talked to Nancy at all? Her mom said she wasn’t home.”

“Bye, Steve,” Jamie said with a roll of her eyes and forced the door shut. “Bye!”

She shuffled down the hall, with every intention of just going back to bed, when the door flung open behind her. Twirling, ready to chew Steve out, she was faced with Dustin, who had both hands clamped down on his hat.

“What was Steve Harrington doing here?” he asked with that slight lisp of his that came with the fake veneers. His lip lifted in disgust. “Are you fooling around with your best friend’s boyfriend?”

“What, no! They broke up last night, but-” she raised her voice to overpower Dustin’s sudden gasp “-we’re not fooling around!” As much as to change the subject as to sate her own curiosity, she asked: “What’s wrong with your head?”

“Oh! Uh!” Dustin yelped, hands clamping down even harder. He began shuffling passed her, heading for the bathroom. “Bad hair day! Real bad! I - uh - gotta take a shit!”

Jamie backed off and let him slam the bathroom door in her face. “Oh come on, man, that’s disgusting!”

_“You might wanna stay clear of the hallway for a while!”_ he called from inside and she shuddered, electing to go watch TV in the living room instead until their mom came home.

“You’re gross!”

“ _You’re grosser!”_

##

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Claudia Henderson chirped as Jamie came stumbling into the kitchen the next morning. Apparently, she’d passed out on the couch, because she woke up there in her PJ’s and covered in a blanket. She grunted, squinting at the harsh sun penetrating the bright blue kitchen curtains, and rubbed her face to get rid of the pattern from one of the throw-pillows. “You were out like a light when I came home yesterday.”

“Yeah, I think I might have the flu.” Jamie sat at the kitchen table, opposite her brother who was slurping up some scrambled eggs from his plate like he was already running late. She grimaced. “You’re gross.”

Without missing a beat, he went: “ _You’re_ gross! You need to take a shower, like, yesterday.”

He nodded his head towards her shirt, and Jamie noticed the large sweat-stains permeating around her armpits. She lifted her arm, sniffed and nearly fell off the kitchen chair. Okay, he had a point.

“You want some eggs, baby?”

“Oh, god, yes, please,” Jamie said and hurried to get her plate ready. “I’m starving!” She shuffled on some scrambled eggs from the frying pan her mom proffered, and began eating just like her brother without noticing. The kitchen was dead silent and she looked up, mouth full of eggs, to see her mother and little brother staring at her. “What?”

“Nothing!” her mom said quickly, effectively shutting off Dustin. “You just - just eat your eggs, honey.”

“Thish ish delicioush!” she said between mouthfuls and poured herself a glass of OJ that she finished in one big gulp. Dustin and her mom was having some sort of silent conversation, filled with hand gestures and pointed looks, but Jamie was too focused on her food to care. Eggs down, she sat back in her chair. Maybe she ate too fast? The room was kind of spinning now.

She jolted at her mom’s cool hand resting on her forehead. “You don’t have a fever. How are you feeling? You look a little...pale.”

“You look like a corpse,” her brother supplied generously.

“Dusty!”

“What?”

“I just need a shower,” Jamie said and cleared her plate into the dishwasher. While she was at it, she put back everything into the fridge too, and wiped the counter hastily. “Don’t worry about driving me, mom, I can take my old bike.”

“Uh...” was her mom’s reply, as the other two Hendersons just stared at Jamie cleaning up. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I need the fresh air. Don’t wait for me,” Jamie said and smiled brightly, causing the sweat droplets on her face to pile atop her top lip. Wiping them off, she leaned to kiss her mom’s cheek and then her brother’s. “Love you, bye.”

She bounded off into the shower, not noticing the stunned looks she left in her wake. Sweaty, but freezing, she opted for a hot shower. Her hair needed a bit more attention than she was willing to give it to cooperate, so she just pulled it back into a ponytail to get it out of her face. A few curly ringlets escaped to hang around in her face, the result of a hazardous fringe she had tried to pull off a year or so ago, and she blew them out of her eyes every few seconds. Only five minutes after her shower, she was sweating again, even though she was still cold to the touch. She felt fine though, just a little dizzy, but after missing an entire semester before summer she didn’t want to get any more absences to her name.

Figuring some deodorant would keep her from sweating through her shirt, she piled the stuff on under her arms and under her B-cup sized breasts and any other place she could think that sweat would amass. Her mom and brother had left while she was showering, but had left a pre-packed lunch for her that she grabbed to put in her backpack. The bike was a bit rusty, but still serviceable, and she made good time to Hawkins High, getting in five minutes early for first period.

A couple of girls upfront were turning around to look at her, before dissolving into whispers right away. They were ones Jamie vaguely recognized as not quite part of Carol’s group, but hopeful hangarounds, ready to do Carol or Tommy H’s every bidding. The third time they turned around it was getting kind of old, so Jamie made a rude gesture involving both mouth and hands their way. The blond - Patty? - gaped in shock, but Jamie just shrugged and raised her eyebrows in an open challenge. No takers.

AP English started with some silent reading, allowing those who hadn’t done their homework some time to catch up. The book was heavy and depressive, and Jamie read the same sentence eight times before making sense of it. That jolt of energy that had come with her mom’s eggs this morning was fading quickly, like a draining battery, and she had to fight for each word to get into her skull. Like tiny ants, the letters danced and shifted on the page, so much it was making her dizzy and she had to close her eyes.

“ _Missss_ Henderson,” Mr. Terrence, a heavyset guy with thick black Beatles-hair and a beard, snapped and jolted Jamie back to reality. “Are you still with us?”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearing her throat and straightening in her chair. The girls whispered to themselves again, while the rest of the class settled for snickering in their seats.

“Okay then, the passage we just read, what category of writing would you say it is an example of?”

“Uhh...” Jamie stared, looked around to see if Nancy was there to help, but failed to see the sharp face of the eldest Wheeler-kid. What had she just been reading? What was the question? “It’s - ah - uh - written in first person, so I guess it’s some sort of personal anecdote?”

Mr. Terrence beamed brightly, small glittering teeth inside his heavy beard. “Good guessing, Miss Henderson, that is absolutely correct. Okay, so, what is the author indirectly referring to in the phrase ‘so unfortunate as to not hear’?” He moved on to someone else. Jamie breathed again. Terrence was seldom cruel, but he had been on her case this semester. This was probably the first question she’d managed all year.

He held her back after class to give her the semester-assignment the others had gotten yesterday. “You know the drill, Henderson. Sleep in class and I _will_ wake you up with a question. All right? If you’re unwell, you stay at home. Speaking of which, you’re looking a little pale. Do you need to see the school-nurse?”

“What? No, I just need some air,” Jamie replied, practically swaying on her feet. It was like she’d burned through her breakfast while biking over here and now she was all shivery and dizzy again. She stuffed the assignment into her backpack and trekked down the hall to her locker. It was a free period now, one that she usually spent in the PhysEng-club, but the thought of going in there and listen to the guys rave about some movie they hadn’t invited her to made her guts churn. She could just hang out at the library, get a head-start on this assignment. Or just lie down somewhere, her vision was blurring in front of her.

The semester assignment was supposed to prepare them for writing college applications: write a personal essay about overcoming an obstacle. Pssh. The sheet listed examples that made it clear that obstacle could mean anything, a breakup, a tough season in basketball, an injury, a paralyzing fear...

Teeth and darkness. Her mind went there in an instant. A million glittering teeth and that dark, forbidden world awaiting her beyond the slimy portal. Left leg tingling, she closed her eyes and tried to breathe as she made her way down the crowded hall. Every time she moved, her jeans would rub against the scarring, the thousands of teeth-marks that still marred her skin. She saw the creature in every shadow, every dark corner of a room, every open closet - waiting for her. It had tasted her flesh and in turn injected her with its poison. It had her scent.

Both legs grew heavier and her breath became shallow. Maybe she should see the school-nurse after all? Jamie blinked and tried to focus on the moving shadows, they all blurred together, as did the noises. Sweat pooled on her forehead, on her upper lip and on her chin. Still she was freezing cold. Had she taken her medication today? With a guilty pang, she realized she hadn’t. It hadn’t even crossed her mind, she had been feeling so great at breakfast and now she was close to pas-

“ _Watch it, Coma Girl!”_

Tommy H shoved her into a row of lockers. His crowd snickered as her shoulder hit the metal with a _bang,_ sending lightening strikes of pain up through her spine. Her footing gave out and she slumped to the floor, eyes rolling back into her head. The snickering stopped.

“Oh my God! Is she okay?”

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!”

“I didn’t see, did she hit her head? Is she alive?”

Someone grabbed hold of her shoulders and shook her while still on the ground. “Oy, Henderson, wake up! Jesus, stop playing, wake up!” The hands dropped her. “Fuck! I think she’s dead. think I killed her!”

A low gravelly voice cut through the fog. He barked orders at the others: “Jesus Christ, go call an ambulance! Come on, get outta my way, I know CPR.”

Footsteps bounded away. A new someone kneeled next to her and laid her flat. He opened her eyelids, found nothing, and listened to her shallow breathing until he was satisfied it was still there. “She’s breathin’. Come on, give me a hand, let’s get her over to her side.”

“Why?” New hands grabbed her by her jeans and shirt, all struggling to work together to shift her so she laid sideways instead of flat on her back.

“So she won’t choke on her own-”

Just then, Jamie’s eyes flung open and her stomach heaved. Vomit spewed out of her mouth, most of it landing squarely on Billy Hargrove’s combat boots. The girls squealed and moved away to avoid getting hit. Jamie moaned and slipped back into semi-unconsciousness.

The voice sounded both annoyed and exasperated as it finished: “-vomit.”

##

The sterile hospital room was kept dark for her comfort. The light from the corridor seeped through the cracks on the door, and some machines blinked on and off, accompanied by the occasional beep. It smelled of soap and old people, just as she remembered it from before summer. It wasn’t the same room though. Before summer, she’d had her own bathroom and everything, where the nurses helped her clean up until she was strong enough to stand on her own.

Outside, in the bright corridor, her mom talked with doctors and she knew Dustin sat desolately on one of the hard chairs, waiting for the okay to go inside to see her. But that was outside. Inside, it was cool and dark and quiet. Her own bubble of nothing. It was weird, she wasn’t scared of the dark. She was just scared of shadows.

A doctor entered, sending a temporary beam of light inside the dark room. She was young, short and plump, looking like she could have been related to Jamie’s mom. Her hair was back in a low pony and she carried a clipboard and a disarming smile. Jamie hadn’t seen her at the hospital before, so she figured she was new.

“Hi, Jamie,” the doctor said and refrained from turning on the lights. She opted to sit next to the bed instead of the plush armchairs over by the wall. “I’m Doctor Rhines. Remember, I came by earlier to run some tests on you?”

Jamie shook her head. She didn’t remember even getting to the hospital.

“Okay,” Doctor Rhines said softly, in a kind voice. “The young man who came with you explained that you fell over, that you might have hit your head. Does your head hurt anywhere in particular?”

She shook her head.

“Okay. Your results came back and we couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. Only, I talked to your mom and she said you’re on some kind of medication. I couldn’t find anything about it in your medical record - do you remember the name of the pills you’re taking?”

“No, not really,” Jamie answered truthfully, all thoughts of the so-called young man forgotten. Panic built inside her, like an icicle growing in her stomach. The government-doctors had put her on that medication, figures it wouldn’t feature in her public records. “It’s just after this...accident last year.”

“Yeah, I heard, you were...in a coma for quite some time, right?” Doctor Rhines had a soft and pleasant voice. Good bedside manners, in contrast to the other doctors Jamie had met. “Must’ve been scary. Still, passing out like that can be a side-effect of whatever pills you’re taking. Maybe you can call me this week to tell me what label says on the bottle? Then we can work out some alternative that won’t make you all dizzy and out of breath like that.”

Jamie nodded in the darkness. “Sure.”

Doctor Rhines looked over her shoulder, at the door to the corridor, before she leaned closer to Jamie. She smelled of synthetic cherries, probably her shampoo. “There are some other things on your record that I would like to discuss too. There’s a lot of-”

The door slammed open, revealing a smiling Doctor Owens who barged in and flicked the light switch on. Jamie recoiled, but managed to keep her eyes open in the glaring brightness. He might have been smiling, but he did not look happy.

“Well, Miss Henderson, you gave us quite a fright, huh?” he said jovially before descending onto Doctor Rhines. He talked like he had ran here and was already running late to his next appointment. “Hello, I’m Doctor Sam Owens, Jamie’s physician. How do you do?”

“Doctor Iris Rhines,” the younger doctor replied, shaking the man’s hand. “Do you work at the hospital?”

“No, no, no,” he said with a bright chuckle. “I work up at St. John’s, the private clinic up by Hawkins Labs. Jamie’s my patient there.”

Doctor Rhines met the smile calmly. “Oh. Okay. Maybe you can tell me what kind of prescription Jamie’s on. I can’t seem to find any mention of it in her records.”

“That’s because there’s no prescription! We got young Jamie here on plain old B12s, hoping to get her iron-levels up and about again. I talked to her mom about adding in some omega 3-capsules as well, some fatty acids is probably just what she needs.”

“Is that so?” said Doctor Rhines and looked at Jamie, who in turn looked away. If Doctor Owens and his government-backed team wanted her prescription to stay out of the spotlight, she was not going to risk her or her family’s safety by revealing it. The two doctors stood there for a while, smiling politely at each other, until Doctor Owens finally asked to get a minute alone with his patient.

Doctor Rhines complied, but not before telling Jamie to pull the emergency cord if she needed anything.

“Well, then, Jamie,” Doctor Owens said when they were alone. “You know what I’m gonna ask you.”

“Yes, I’ve been taking my medicine,” Jamie replied dutifully. She tugged at the hospital bracelet. “Some stupid brute at school shoved me into some lockers before, I think I hit my head and passed out.”

“Just a high-school bully, huh?” Doctor Owens asked as if Jamie hadn’t just described a violent assault on her person. “How are you feeling otherwise?”

“Fine.”

“Did you tell the good Doctor Rhines anything else?”

“No?”

“Okay, that’s good,” he said and smiled, even if it did not quite reach his eyes. “Too many cooks and all that...” The idiom was solid, because Jamie obviously wasn’t a person to him, rather than a boiling concoction he was tasked to keep an eye on. His watch seemed more interesting to him than Jamie. “Well, it’s been a busy day kid, I’ll tell you that. Go home, get some rest, okay?”

He left, only for Dustin to enter. Her younger brother obviously hadn’t been given the okay to go inside, as he darted through the open door and shut it quickly behind him. At least his sunny expression was genuine, unlike Doctor Owens’ smile. It disappeared quickly though, replaced with a serious grimace.

“Are you pregnant?”

“WHAT?” Jamie spat and sat up in the bed. “You little shit! No! Why would you ask me that?”

“Because,” Dustin started and Jamie could tell this was going to be one of his long explanations again, “Patricia in my class heard it from her sister who heard it from her friend that you were going steady with Will’s brother but you got dumped by him - Will’s brother - and then you hooked up with Max’ brother at Tina’s party before you went home with Steve and that you got pregnant and you puked on Max’ brother’s shoes because of morning sickness and now everyone wants to know if the baby is Jonathan’s, Steve’s or Max’ brother’s.”

“There are too many possessive pronouns in that statement,” Jamie said when recovering from Dustin’s lisped story. “Who’s Max?”

“Oh,” Dustin said and his sunny grin reappeared. “She’s this total badass from California. She beat my high-score at Dig Dug with like 100 000 points and she rides a skateboard and we asked her to join our party.”

“Sorry, Max is a girl?”

“Yeah, her real name’s Maxine, but she gets mad if you call her that and punches you in the arm so it leaves a bruise,” Dustin explained, as if speaking from experience. “Her brother’s a shithead. He tried to run over me and Lucas and Mike.”

Jamie’s head still reeled at the pregnancy-rumors, but got dragged back by Dustin’s last sentence. “He tried to WHAT?”

“Like the day before Halloween me and Lucas and Mike went biking home and then he came driving like 200 miles per hour and we had to dive into the ditch so he wouldn’t hit us.” Dustin shook his head like that was old news, instead of just two days ago. “Anyway, I got something more important to tell you.”

Jamie stared at the smaller and slightly more masculine version of herself. “More important than some high-schooler trying to kill you?”

“Yeah,” he said matter-of-factly. He hefted his backpack up, zipped it open to reveal the ghost trap, only now it was shaking slightly and held shut with a large piece of duct tape. Dustin grinned widely, veneers gleaming, before he placed the box on the foot of her bed. “I discovered a new species. I call him Dart.”

“Wait, there’s something inside there?” Jamie asked in horror, because she had thought the big reveal was how he rigged the box to shake like it contained something. Not that it actually contained something! “Alive?”

“Yeah, I found him rummaging through our garbage the other night,” Dustin said distractedly, as he was looking around the hospital room. “Ah.” He went to the cabinet and returned with a bedpan.

“Do you know what that is?”

Dustin looked at the bedpan and shrugged. “Huh? No, I just wanna be prepared in case he runs off again. Are you ready?”

Without waiting for her reply, he flicked the switch and the box opened. Jamie leaned closer in morbid curiosity. What the hell was that?

The size of a small rat, the creature was dark and slimy, looking somewhere between a slug and a lizard. It had no eyes, no ears, just this tiny little circle of a mouth, that turned her way when she made a noise. It reminded her of a troglodyte, from one of Dustin’s many D’n’D-campaigns. It made a chirping noise that made every hair on Jamie’s body stand up to attention.

“Cool, huh?”

“It’s hideous,” Jamie said, but still stared. As if the thing had understood her, it turned its head towards her again and opened its mouth to shriek thinly.

“Don’t listen to her, Dart. I think you’re awesome,” Dustin whispered to the creature, giving Jamie a hard glare. Apparently, looking at the thing gave him some comfort. He looked up with his grin back in place. “He likes nougat.”

“I bet,” Jamie said and reached over to flick the switch, effectively trapping Dart back inside the trap. “If he escapes at the hospital, we’re screwed. This place is huge.”

Dustin nodded, believing her. Truth was, it made her uneasy to look at. Nothing particular, not that she could place her finger on, but after last year, she was a bit wary of new species found around Hawkins. The box wiggled and shook, Dart did not like being locked up like that, but Dustin didn’t seem to notice as he prattled on about it being a new kind of terrestrial pollywog, no matter what Will and Mike said (he refrained from telling her exactly what Will and Mike had said) and that he was going to name it - the species - after himself.

Jamie listened with half an ear, just in case he dropped another bomb like before, and tried to wrap her head around the rumors surrounding her in school. She’d told the PhysEng-club that she was going to Tina’s party with Jonathan, so that’s where that came from. She wondered which of the guys had told which girl to impress her, but it had still leaked. It was no longer a love triangle, more a five-sided polygon involving her, Nancy, Steve, Jonathan and that Billy Hargrove-guy that she still mentally referred to as California. Who had tried to kill her little brother. Hah. He deserved every bit of vomit on his shoes and then some.

She realized Dustin had finally shut up and now sat beaming on the edge of her bed, the rumbling Ghost Trap between them. As a big sister, that shit-eating grin always gave her the urge to smack him upside the head and she did.

“What?” she barked as he yelped and rubbed his head.

“Nothing,” he said, still grinning. Jamie narrowed her eyes and reached to smack him again, but he was too fast and avoided the blow. “Jesus! I just like that you’re back, that’s all.”

“We saw each other this morning, dipshit.”

“Yeah, I know, like physically you’ve been around since before summer, but, like, personality-wise...” he trailed off, an unusual occurrence when dealing with Dustin. Her eyebrows rose as he tried to find the right words. “Like yesterday, you yelled at me through the bathroom door. You haven’t done that since last year!”

“That’s bullshit, I yell at you all the time. Because you’re a little asshole all the time,” Jamie said with crossed arms.

“Yeah, no, you haven’t, not since...” Dustin looked over his shoulder at the completely empty room. He still whispered the last two words: “The Incident.”

“That’s not true, I-” Jamie started and scrambled for an example. Okay, when _had_ she yelled at him last? They always fought and swore and wrestled with each other. As Dustin had proclaimed when he was around six, it was his duty as a little brother to be annoying. Jamie thus found it her duty as a big sister to put him in his place. He was a growing boy, but she still had a couple of inches and a few pounds on him, making it an easy match whenever it got physical.

“See?” Dustin proclaimed when Jamie stayed silent for too long. “I told you. You haven’t. But now you’re yourself again. Maybe the hormones caused by the pregnancy jumpstarted your spiritual healing process.”

“Oh shut up,” Jamie said and shoved at his shoulder. Whenever Dustin watched late-night TV aimed at middle-aged women, he got some funny ideas in his head. “I’m not pregnant! Not unless I’m having the second coming of Jesus anyway.”

“You’re _still_ a virgin?” Dustin asked and ducked quickly from the blow Jamie lashed out at him. “You’re such a loser.”

“Shut up, success is not measured by how fast you can lose your virginity.”

Dustin shrugged and looked down on his trap. “Maybe not for girls...”

“Not for guys either. Thinking like that is why high-school guys are always pressuring both each other and girls into having sex before they’re emotionally ready. Sex is between two consenting adults who want to share something intimate _and physical with each other!_ ” She had to raise her voice because Dustin had placed both his hands over his ears and started to sing “LA LA LA LA LA” to drown her out. He had no issues talking about sex, but became weird about it when it was coupled with love. Grinning, she kept it up: “SEX SHOULD BE ENJOYABLE FOR BOTH PARTIES, WHICH IS MORE LIKELY IF THEY BOTH CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER’S FEELINGS AND EXPERIENCES! SEX SHOULD BE SAFE AND FUN- Oh hi, mom!”

Dustin paused his ‘lalalala’-ing to turn around and smile at their mom. “Hi, mom!”

Claudia Henderson had paused in the doorway to contemplate her two young spawns. She blinked and shook her head. “Jamie, please lower your voice, we can hear you all over the hospital.”

“Yes, mom.”

“I’m serious, there could be someone saying good bye to their loved ones down the hall.”

“Yes, mom.”

“And Dusty, your sister is absolutely right, and when you’re ready to have that talk-”

“LA LA LA LA LA!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chapter, more in line with how the rest will be. Hope you enjoyed, please leave a review :)


	3. Chapter 3

The tiny pill bottle seemed huge in her hands. It was see-through orange and labeled ‘Stablon’. It had a warning to not operate heavy vehicles, hence why all her driving practice had been put on hold, and not consume alcohol. Dustin’s words had gotten under her skin. Two days of not taking the pills, and her ‘personality was back’. Stablon... Doc Owens had said the active ingredient was a four-syllable word she couldn’t remember. And that’s it. Nothing about side-effects, what it was used for, or anything else than how to ingest it and when to do it. Three times a day, before mealtimes, two pills at a time.

Had they ever told her what they were for? Not that she remembered. After she woke up from the coma, after all the sleepless nights and the splitting headaches, they had put her on this medication ‘to stabilize her’. Whatever the hell that meant. Now she had a hunch it was used to counteract any more serious side-effects that came with that antidote they had injected her with. Still, two - now three - days without them and she felt fine. Better than she had in a long time. Doc Owens’ words came back to haunt her, how side-effects could materialize years and decades later.

She finally made up her mind and poured the contents of the pill-bottle into the toilet. After she flushed, and made sure all the pills were either dissolving or gone, she refilled the bottle with some old multivitamins from the back of her cabinet that had the same size as the Stablon-pills. Of course she considered calling Doctor Rhines to tell her about the pills, but what had Chief Hopper said about phones? Oh, right, ‘expect them to be listening in.” Reassuring as that was.

Instead, she wrote the brand on a post-it and put it in her jeans-pocket. Maybe Steve could give her a ride to the hospital and she could slip the note to Rhines. That would leave the young female doctor in potentially a lot of trouble though.

It was a good chance Steve wouldn’t give her a ride either. She hadn’t exactly been nice to him when he was pining over his breakup with Nancy. And she hadn’t been nice to Nancy either. Jamie blew air out her mouth with a puff. Say what you want about the PhysEng-club, but the relationship drama had been kept to a minimum. Because they all - including Jamie - were a bunch of losers, like Dustin had pointed out. Not that he was not following in her footsteps.

_“JAMIE!”_

Just as she thought of Dustin, came his shrilling cry through the house. It was Saturday, their mom was at some jazzercise, and they were left to fend for themselves at the house. Jamie scrambled through her bedroom door and down to Dustin’s room. Knowing that Dustin kept that slimy creature in Yertle’s glassed habitat gave Jamie the chills and she was just waiting for it to break free and wreak havoc on the house.

“Jamie, look!”

The shrill in Dustin’s voice hadn’t been fear, but excitement, as he pointed to the thing called Dart. It convulsed and shifted in the makeshift cage.

“He’s growing!”

“Okay, that is _not_ how metamorphis works!” Jamie said, disgusted and intrigued despite herself. He’d gone from rat-sized to cat-sized, in a matter of seconds, shedding skin and slime as he changed. It lurched around in the cage, now on the verge of being too small, chirping and skittering to itself. Dustin covered up the cage with a blanket again.

“Is that my blanket?” Jamie asked, recognizing the tartan patter. She pinched Dustin’s side, causing a pained yelp of laughter. “You little shit!”

“I didn’t think you’d mind!” he called after her, but she was already stomping down the hallway, eager to get away from that creature. The tartan had reminded her of Nancy again, she wore skirts like that to school all the time. It was a couple of days since she’d hung up on her, so maybe it was time to start rekindling that new friendship. Now that her personality was back and all. A treacherous voice asked if maybe Nancy had preferred Jamie to be all blank and boring, a clean slate for her to project her dead friend’s personality onto.

“Oh, hi, Jamie!” said Mrs. Wheeler on the phone, always the pleasant housewife. She’d been very kind to Jamie’s mom throughout the divorce. “Oh, Nancy? She said something about a sleepover at Stacy’s, a girl’s night I think she called it. Strange of her not to invite you, I’ll talk to her about it when she gets back. I always raised her to be inclusive and-”

“Oh, that’s okay, thanks a bunch, Mrs. Wheeler!” Jamie said quickly and hung up. As far as she knew, Nancy despised Stacy ever since the latter had joined the cheerleading squad and denounced Nancy in public during her ‘initiation’. On a hunch, she tried the Byers. Because Dustin hung out so often with Will, the phone number was on quick-dial.

She got nothing but the answering-machine. Okay. So, either Nancy was at Jonathan’s and they were too busy to pick up, or they were somewhere else. That narrowed it down. Not. Sometimes it would’ve been useful if high-schoolers also used those walkie-talkies her brother and his friends were always communicating by. Speaking of which, they were doing it right now. The crackling voices of Mike and Lucas sounded through the house.

“Dustin!” she shouted, still holding the phone in case she thought of someone else to call. “Turn down the volume!”

It was just last year that she helped Dustin rig up a repeater in the woods between their and Mike’s house, so they could all stay in touch at the same time rather than relying on Lucas to repeat the message.

“ _It’s already on one!”_ Dustin shouted back. Which was an obvious lie, she could hear them like it was coming out of the phone-receiver rather than the walkie-talkie.

_“Maybe if we set up some sort of trap, we can catch Dart. You said he liked nougat, right? Over.”_

_“Roger. I’ll go by Will’s, see what’s up. Over.”_

“TURN IT DOWN, DUSTIN!”

“ _Hang on guys, it’s just my bitch-ass sister. IT’S ALREADY DOWN!”_

Jamie slammed the receiver back on its stand. “WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!”

“How did you hear- uah!” Dustin tried to slam the door in her face, but she jumped in before he had the chance. He shrieked his mid-voice change scream and threw himself over his walkie-talkie. “CODE RED! I REPEAT, CODE RE- AARG!”

Jamie pounced on top of her brother’s back, wrestling with the walkie-talkie and trying to give him a good noogie at the same time. “THAT - IS - NOT - A - POLITE - WORD, you little sonnofabitch!”

“Dustin, are you okay? Please respond, over!”

Having successfully acquired the walkie-talkie, Jamie settled for using her legs to keep Dustin at bay, and hit the talking-button: “Dustin’s a little shit! Over and out!” She pushed the antenna down and gave Dustin a final shove with her legs.

“Dude!” he said and adjusted his shirt that was way up by his elbows. “That was serious! Something’s going on with Will.”

“Then you should have turned it down!” Jamie showed him the walkie-talkie, one that he’d inherited from her after she’d inherited after their older cousin Jack. “See, you have it all the way up to-” She faltered, seeing where the knob actually was. “-one.”

“I told you!” Dustin snatched back the walkie-talkie with a huff. “How did you even hear me all the way out in the kitchen?”

“Because you were talking super-loud,” Jamie said in a duh-voice, even if it was laced with hesitation. “Maybe there’s something wrong with the volume-button. Lemme see.”

Dustin relented the walkie-talkie back to her when she held out her hand. She turned it on, adjusted the dial up to ten and the resounding _beep_ nearly knocked her onto the floor. “AAH!”

“Jesus!” Dustin cried and jumped down to turn the walkie-talkie off. “What’s up with you and your doglike-hearing?”

“That didn’t hurt your ears?” Jamie rubbed her temples to ease the sharp jolt of pain that had erupted in her eardrums. She flexed her jaw, as to release pressure in her sinuses. “Shit!”

“No, that was just loud, not painful.” Dustin stared at her with a puzzle expression. “Stay here.”

He darted out of the room, leaving Jamie in a pile of his dirty clothes and comics. A few seconds later, she heard him say: “Can you hear me now?”

“Yes?” she said, wondering why he had bother to just go stand outside the door to talk to her. No answer. “YES?” She puffed and screamed: “ _YES!”_

Half a minute later, he came bounding back inside, completely out of breath. “Dude!”

“Where were you?”

“Across the street.”

“Screw you, ass-”

“No! I’m serious! Come on,” Dustin said and when Jamie didn’t immediately respond, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the room. “Come on, come on, come on!”

“All right, jeez.”

He positioned her in the hallway, so she could see out the window onto the street. Dustin himself went outside, closed the door behind him, and turned back to face her on the sidewalk on their side of the road.

“Jamie,” he said and if she hadn’t seen him standing at least twenty feet away, she would’ve sworn he was right next to her. He repeated her name and it was obvious from his body language that he was not shouting on the top of his lungs. He took a few steps backwards. “Jamie.”

She nodded when he held up his thumb to get a response from her. He continued on, walking backwards, facing her. “Jamie. Jamie. Jamie.”

It got further away, but he was still loud and clear. It was downright spooky and she half-suspected him to have placed a speaker in the living room and somehow connected the walkie-talkie to it. The walkie was still in her hand though. He kept going backwards, into the neighbor’s yard, saying her name every few seconds. She lost sight of him before she even began to struggle hearing him.

It took him a couple of minutes to figure out he had no way of knowing if she was still able to hear him or not, and he jogging back inside, face red and sweaty from the exercise. She stared at him, his familiar grin, his lopsided curls, hoping to hear the word: “SIKE!” come out of his smiling mouth.

No such luck.

“Dude. You got super-hearing!”

* * *

Jamie and Dustin’s dad was an engineer, their mom an accountant. They liked numbers, hard facts and calculated data. Jamie and Dustin were both tinkerers, always trying to figure out how stuff worked and how far they could push the limits of their equipment. Their dad had showed Jamie how to perform an experiment when she was younger, how to record the results and draw conclusions based on the data. She had in turn showed it to Dustin. So, if you put it like that, it was her own damn fault she was sitting in the field with a blindfold and a walkie-talkie.

“Okay, so it’s got a range of about one mile with the extra antenna. I’ll keep my voice in the same level the whole time and record the distances. You hit the comm-button once when you hear me okay, twice when you start to lose me. No signal, I’ll assume I’m out of earshot.”

Dustin walked away with his own walkie-talkie, a notebook and a measuring stick. Every 10 yards, he’d say her name and she’d dutifully respond. She was still not convinced this was not some ruse from his side, but doubt had began to seep into her mind. Nothing could explain the sudden increased hearing abilities. No radioactive spider, no lightning strike from a Greek God, no exposure to any illegal chemicals. Okay, so, a supernatural monster from another dimension _had_ bitten her, but that was almost a year ago. Peter Parker had gotten his powers within a week or so.

_“Jamie?”_

_Click_

_“Jamie?”_

_Click_

Almost immediately, Dustin said in a giggling voice: _“Oh, man, this is so cool. My sister has superpowers!”_

She did not click for that. Besides, the thing that bit her did not even have ears, so why would her hearing be all superpowered all of a sudden. Made no sense. Okay, Doctor Owens had mentioned unwanted side-effects, but she was pretty sure he was talking about going blind or dizziness, not...this.

_“Jamie?”_

_Click_

They’d talked about it extensively, she and Dustin. He was convinced she was developing superpowers. He also hoped it was genetic. His explanation for why she could hear voices over long range, but not, like, the sound of Mews walking around was what he called predispositioned awareness. Humans heard voices better than other things because they had trained themselves to. If she wanted to hear a cat walking, she had to train herself to listen for it. Sounded like a load of horse crap, but that was her brother for ya.

_“Jamie?”_

_Click_

_“Jamie? I’m at 500 yards now.”_

She hesitated. He was fading a bit, but she could still hear him. _Click click_

_“Did you just double-click because I told you how far away I was or did you actually struggle to hear me?”_ Even at this range, she could hear the irritation in his voice.

Jamie rolled her eyes and clicked once.

_“That’s what I thought.”_

Sitting there with the blindfold, Jamie realized she could hear a lot of things if she tried to. Wings of birds, cars driving by far away, branches creaking, grass whispering in the wind, plastic wheels rolling on concrete.

_“Dustin?”_

A girl’s voice, about the same distance as Dustin. The plastic wheels stopped.

_“Max!”_ Dustin exclaimed, sounding pleased and nervous and hormonal all at once. Aha. That explained the sound. Her skateboard. Dustin had reached the end of the field and continued onto the parking lot for the old mill.

_“What are you doing here?”_ asked the girl called Max. There was a hard edge to her voice.

_“Uh, I’m conducting an experiment, with my sister,”_ said Dustin and Jamie rolled her eyes on his behalf. “ _What’re you doing here?”_

_“Skating,”_ said Max and there was a thump that was probably her skateboard being placed back down. _“I don’t see your sister anywhere. What are you experimenting on? Did you find Dart?”_

That little shit had told the girl Max about his pollywog. Gosh, boys were all the same. To prevent Dustin from spilling the beans about Jamie’s so-called superpower, she held the comm-button in this time and said: “Henderson 1 to Henderson 2, come in.”

Immediately, he replied and it was weird when she was hearing him so far off and through the walkie-talkie at the same time. _“This is Henderson 2, responding to Henderson 1. Over.”_

“Henderson 2, please return to base. I repeat, return to base. Over.”

Max sounded impressed. _“That’s your sister? Cool. Billy would never agree to play with walkie-talkies with me.”_

_“You could join, if you want.”_ Dustin nearly tripped over his words and Jamie gritted her teeth.

“Henderson 2, I repeat, _return to base_ , you little shithead.”

_“That sounded more like Billy,”_ Max said with a laugh and the skateboard rolled a bit back and forth. _“You better go back to her. I’ll see you at school.”_

Dustin’s voice was dreamlike. _“Yeah. Bye!”_ Dustin’s voice grew louder by the second, he was on his way back. “ _What the hell, dude, you just screwed up my chances to talk to Max without Lucas there.”_

Jamie took off her blindfold and laid flat back on the field. With a grin, she clicked once.

_“You son of a bitch!”_

* * *

Back home, they ate dinner in front of the TV, a rare weekend treat. Their mom usually insisted on eating dinner together by the kitchen table - they were still a family, even if their dad didn’t live there anymore. But in the weekends, the rules were a bit lax. Jamie couldn’t stop staring at her mother though. It was like she was waking up from a second coma and suddenly noticing _everything_ around her. She remembered that her mom joked about losing 70 lbs by worrying about Jamie when she was in the hospital (and that she could stand to lose about 7o lbs more), but Jamie hadn’t really noticed how gaunt and thin her mother actually looked. Okay, she was no Karen Wheeler or Joyce Byers, who were all angles and hipbones from nature’s side. But she was a lot thinner than Jamie could remember.

Claudia Henderson had tried to lose weight ever since giving birth to Justin, and she went on these kicks every once in a while where she drank nothing but diet shakes or ate from small plates only. It seemed like the diet that stuck, was the ‘worry-about-Jamie’-diet. Maybe now when she was better, her mom would gain back a pound or two. Jamie hoped so. Even her mom’s naturally rosy complexion was looking a little pale.

Of course, that night it could’ve also be because Mews didn’t show up for his nightly kitten meal. The cat rarely strayed far from Claudia, since she was the one feeding him, but tonight he was nowhere to be found.

Dustin knocked on her bedroom door after dinner and let himself into her room before she could answer. His cap was off, leaving his curls bouncing wild and free atop of his head. Jamie had the same ones, only the longer version, saving her a fortune in perms each year curly hair was in. He sat on the floor by her bed and whispered so their mom wouldn’t hear.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started and Jamie shifted so she laid more comfortably. Dustin never was one for short and sweet talks. “This superhearing of yours, it manifested at the same time as your personality came back.”

Without meaning to, Jamie looked at the pill-bottle on her nightstand. “Uh-huh.”

“Which was around the same time you went to the Halloween party.”

“Yup.”

“And you did not have sex?”

“Dustin,” Jamie groaned and flipped so she laid on her back. “No, I did not have sex and even if I did, it would not be something I’d discuss with my baby brother.”

“Fine, fine. But did you or didn’t you?”

Jamie swatted at his head. “Why are you even asking me that, dipshit?”

“Because we need to figure out what triggered your superpower! In X-Men, it’s usually linked with puberty, but you got your period like three years ago-”

“Oh my God. How do you know that?”

“-so that’s not it. I would’ve guessed it was the Demogorgon-bite from last year, but that doesn’t make sense because that’s literally a whole year ago. No, it was something that happened at the party, we just need to figure out what.”

“It’s a pretty shitty superpower though. Like if you could choose, you wouldn’t ever have superhearing as first pick.”

“You might have other powers, we don’t know that yet. Superstrength. Maybe you can fly. Turn invisible. We have to run tests.”

“Wouldn’t we have realized if I could fly?”

“Would we? It wouldn’t have kicked in before you needed it.”

“Are you telling me I gotta jump off the roof tomorrow? Because if I break my leg, that’s on you.”

“Maybe we can start by lifting dad’s old weights in the basement. Not like he’s using them anymore.”

Jamie picked up on the bitterness and gently rubbed her brother’s curls. She hesitated, realizing she could see as clearly in the dark as she could in daylight. Every strand of hair on Dustin’s head shone differently and if she concentrated, she could hear his pulse going steadily through his body. Well, she might as well tell him. “I - uh - I had some spiked punch at that party.”

“And?”

“And it made me really sick. Like really sick, so sick that I forgot to take my pills for a couple of days.”

Dustin turned with his huge blue eyes open wide. “You haven’t been taking your meds?”

“No, not-”

“You’ve been telling mom you have!” he gasped.

“I know, I know, but- uh. It’s like I’m waking up again from a long, strange dream and I think taking those pills would make me fall asleep again, you know?”

Dustin grabbed the pill-bottle of her nightstand and read the name aloud. “Sta-blon. What the hell’s it supposed to do?”

“I have no idea,” Jamie said and snatched it back. “I’ve been taking it ever since I woke up from the coma.”

“What if the pills have been suppressing your superpowers?” Dustin lisped, too excited to sit now. “What if it was the bite that gave you powers and then the government-assholes tried to hide them from you by making you take these pills? That’s why they’re running tests on you each week! HAHA! It _was_ the bite! That makes so much sense!”

Jamie did not exactly share his excitement, but a sense of foreboding passed through her when she saw Dustin’s face change from excited to thoughtful. He dashed out from her bedroom and down the hall.

“Hey! Where’re you going?”

“I’m gonna have Dart bite me!”

She sprang up from her bed and followed him. He was already folding up the leg of his jeans, stumbling across the room to Yertle’s tank at the same time. “What? I got bit by that thing from the Upside Down, not by some newly discovered pollywog!”

“Mike and Will said Dart is from the Upside Down!” Dustin exclaimed happily, like he had not metaphorically poured a bucket of ice water down her back.

“WHAT?” she yelped. No need to keep their voices down, their mom was outside looking for Mews. “You _knew_ that thing was from the Upside Down and you brought it here?! IN THE SAME HOUSE AS ME?!”

“Look, I told Dart that I would look after him, before I knew he was _maybe_ from the Upside Down,” Dustin explained and tried to balance his leg up by the tank. “Now, if I get bit we’ll have superpowers together and-”

Jamie grabbed hold of Dustin’s wrist before he could yank off the blanket that covered Yertle’s turtle tank. She must’ve gripped it harder than she intended as he winced in pain. “Are - you - insane?”

“What, you’re the only one that gets to be a superhero?”

“We don’t even know that it was the bite that gave me this power!” she cried out, dragging her brother away from the tank. Tears were threatening to spill over in her eyes. “The only thing we do know is that it landed me in a coma for three months! It took a whole team of scientists to find a cure, and _that_ was highly experimental as well. You know what, maybe that was it? Maybe it was the antidote that gave me superhearing, not the extremely painful and poisonous bite from a creature from another dimension!”

“Dart’s small, it won’t hurt too much,” Dustin argued. He tried to yank his arm back, but she held onto it. “If there’s even a small chance I’ll get powers, I’m taking it!”

“No, you’re not!” Jamie said and wrestled him further away from the dresser. She grabbed both wrists and leaned down to look directly into his eyes. “Listen to me, Dusty, you can be a hero without superpowers! Being kind to people, helping them, that’s a real hero. It has nothing to do with superstrength or flying or turning invisible. Dustin! Do you understand, Dustin?”

He had stopped struggling. Instead, he stared over her shoulder at the turtle tank, face white and eyes wide. She turned slowly, seeing that their struggling had somehow torn off the blanket. The tank was broken - and empty. The only thing left was slime and bits of skin. Another metamorphism. Dart had grown.

“Jesus Christ, don’t touch that,” Jamie said with a shiver as Dustin picked up a piece of skin that dripped with goo. Whatever had broken through the tank had to be the size of a small dog, maybe a terrier. The thought of something like that - from the UPSIDE DOWN, no less - running loose in the house made her want to cry.

Dustin looked sick. “Can you hear him?”

The idea to listen hadn’t even struck her. She swallowed, and tried to tune out all the regular noises. If she tried, she could hear pretty much anything inside the room. Her own breathing, the slight vibration in the air as the hair on her arm rose, a smattering squelching sound, like something with a lot of teeth eating something wet.

It came from behind Dustin’s armchair, in the corner. She nodded her head that way and in synch, they moved slowly, picking up makeshift weapons as they went.

“Dart?” Dustin asked gently, but now Jamie could see the trail of slime and something wet and dark that could only be blood leading from the cage to the corner. The content chewing noises continued. Slowly, ever so slowly, they both peered their heads over the armchair. It was like a tiny headless dinosaur, tearing off bits of flesh from a body covered in blood and orange fur. Their mom’s cat.

Dart sensed them, because it turned around to face them with that tiny bulb-like head. It made some bobbing moves before the head erupted into a small version of that flower-petal monster that haunted Jamie’s dreams. It shrieked and Jamie...froze.

Teeth and darkness swallowed her.


	4. Chapter 4

“Shit shit shit shit.”

Dustin chanted the word like a mantra. He heaved at his sister’s limp body, struggling to get it back out in the hallway. At the same time, he had to make sure Dart didn’t escape into the house. Jamie’s legs were finally free from the door and he kicked it shut, effectively trapping Dart inside. Dustin had had plenty of odd pets when he grew up and he knew for certain that his room was essentially a sealed cage, not even the bat he kept in 2nd grade had managed to find its way out of there.

“Let’s go, Yertle,” he said to the turtle sticking up from his vest pocket. He’d snatched her when making a run for it, when Jamie had frozen on the spot. She looked kinda like Will out on that field, eyes closed, but obviously moving behind her eyelids. Completely stiff. Since she was still a couple of inches taller than him, he settled for grabbing her around the waist and lifting her straight up. Awkwardly, he walked her to her own bedroom and tipped her onto the bed.

It had been a few years since he’d last had a ‘sleepover’ in her room, but the futon was still where it used to be and he grabbed some more blankets from the living room. Their mom came back inside just as he’d released Yertle into Jamie’s closet.

“This isn’t like my baby at all,” was the first thing she said and Dustin felt that huge pang of guilt. Claudia loved her kids, doted on them, but she adored the cat. It was a constant, he supposed, more-so than a couple of unpredictable teenagers that came and went as they pleased.

“Mom,” he said and put both hands on her shoulders. “You need to get some sleep. It’s probably just some kids that thought he was cute and started feeding him. Tomorrow we’ll make some posters, put them around the neighborhood and make sure he’ll come back here, okay? Okay.”

It was a little weird, parenting your own parent, but he’d done it a couple of times now. Especially when Jamie was in the hospital. Sometimes, it’d just get too much for his mom and then he’d have to step up and be the man his dad hadn’t been able to be.

“Okay, thank you, Dusty,” his mom said and kissed the top of his head. “You always keep such a level head. Love you. Good night.”

“G’night,” he said and prayed that Dart would keep absolutely quiet before his mom went to bed. If he started rummaging, his mom would think it was Mews and then it’d set off a whole chain of events that would be best to avoid. While his mom got ready for bed, Dustin grabbed the huge emergency flashlight from the kitchen and a new set of batteries for the radio.

A quick check on Jamie revealed she was still catatonic. That would be just great, wouldn’t it, if she slipped back into a coma. Dustin had caught glimpses of her scarred leg a couple of times, even as careful as she was to hide it, and thinking of _that_ combined with Dart’s expanding mouths, plural, made him realize just how stupid a plan it was to try and make Dart bite him for something as petty as superpowers. Especially a shitty superpower like good hearing.

A yellowish bruise had begun to form on his wrist. Yeah, he was not ready to rule out superstrength just yet. Jamie had biceps like a kindergartener, no way should she be able to grip this hard.

The light went off in his mom’s room and he let out a breath. Back inside Jamie’s room, he put the flashlight by his pillow, next to the radio. Mike was over at Will’s house and...Lucas was still rigging that trap to catch Dart. It was late at night now though, if he tried to contact Lucas they would just get in trouble. Hopefully - hopefully - Dart would remain satiated on Mews until tomorrow morning at least.

##

Jamie was no better by the time morning rolled over Hawkins. Dustin had slipped in and out of sleep, listening intently for the slightest indication that Dart had escaped. He shook his sister’s shoulder a few times, but she was gone. Great. Just great.

His ruse to get his mom out of the house worked and he watched her get in the car to drive to Loch Nora, to look for the cat that was lying dead and half-eaten in his bedroom. All right. Time to initiate the rest of the plan. First, he had to barricade Jamie’s room. He thought about getting her out of the house, but figured his neighbors would find it a bit suspicious if he dragged his sister’s unconscious body over the front lawn.

Instead, he used duct tape to seal her door and windows. He also put up a trip wire in the hallway, so if Dart went that way, he would know. What he would do if that happened he would have to figure out on the spot. Dressed in his old baseball catcher uniform, armed with his hockey stick, he laid out the bait and prepared the trap. It was a good plan. Dart, who seemed to prefer meat over nougat now, would follow the trail of baloney from his bedroom, out the back door and then into the cellar. Dustin, who would be hiding in the safety of the shed, would watch Dart and close the hatch to the cellar behind him.

The only problem was that this plan essentially required him to open his bedroom door while he was inside the shed. If he had had time, Jamie’s help and some wires, he probably could have made that happen with an easy switch, but as it was now, he had none of this.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he repeated to himself. He heard Dart rummage inside his room from the other side of the door. “Okay.”

“All right, Dart,” he called out and leaned forward. “Breakfast time.”

* * *

It was at least a hundred degrees inside Jamie’s room when she woke up. Her t-shirt and jeans were both plastered to her skin. She rolled out of her bed, head swimming, sweat dripping. The sun beamed through the windows, but they were both shut completely, even taped down with duct tape. What the hell? Even the bedroom door was taped shut, sealing the room completely so not even air could escape. No wonder it was stifling inside.

“Dustin?” she asked aloud. His old futon was spread out on her floor, his red and white hat sitting next to it. No answer, but she still heard him. He was going: “Shit shit shit shit shit!” over and over again, while moving, somewhere close to the house. It ended with the sound of the shed swinging open and then slamming shut.

“Dustin?” she asked again and tried the door-handle. Locked, from the outside. “Dustin, you little shit, open up!”

Agitated, she kicked at the door. It sprang open with duct tape pieces flapping behind it. Finally, fresh air! She stepped out into the hallway, but froze at the sound of tiny feet padding over the linoleum. Dustin’s room was down the hall, the door open. Out stepped the tiny nightmare from last night, a miniature version of the creature that had nearly cost her her life. Like a little mascot for Upside Down. It spotted her with its non-existent eyes and shrieked her way, the mouths opening to its full extent.

It came bounding towards her and she shrieked herself, stepping back into her room and slamming the door.

A happy jingle rang out in the hallway while the creature made a disgruntled noise. A new round of “Shit shit shit shit!” revealed that Dustin was making his way back into the house.

“DUSTIN, GET OUT OF HERE!” she yelled, safe from her side of the door. The swearing got closer still, before it stopped, and Dustin let out the tiniest “Shit!” before his footsteps went the other way again. Jamie’s hand was frozen on the door knob. She wanted nothing more than to hide in her closet for the rest of her life. She was not superhero-material!

“Shit shit shit!”

“ARGH!” Jamie yelled and wrenched the door open again. Hallway was empty, but she saw the edge of Dart’s tail disappear behind the corner. Then Dustin screamed.

“YOU STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MY BROTHER!” Jamie shouted and ran into the kitchen. Dustin stood just outside the back door, fully decked out in his catcher gear, brandishing a hockey stick to keep the screeching Dart at bay. The creature had turned when Jamie came running and split its head open to reveal its multiple sets of teeth at her. Even if it didn’t reach her knees in height, it managed to send waves of panic through her system. She grabbed blindly at the mop-rack and closed her hand around a broom.

“Cellar!” Dustin croaked from behind his protective mask, before he yelped and jumped back as Dart took a few steps closer to him.

“Shoo!” Jamie said and waved the broom at the chicken-like thing. A detached part of herself wondered about the efficiency to say ‘Shoo!” to a mightmarish monster, but it was what she did and she had to stand by it. It snapped at the bristles of her broom, the sound of teeth clicking almost making her pee her pants on the spot.

“I got a plan!” Dustin shouted, causing Dart to turn yet again. Jamie turned white as snow when she watched Dustin enact his plan by running down the small pathway to their cellar. The thing about catcher gear was that it only protected the front, and Dustin’s entire backside was exposed to any and all sharp teeth that got near enough. Like an overeager puppy, Dart ran after Dustin and Jamie ran after Dart again.

Dustin’t didn’t run straight to the cellar, but to the shed. He skidded to a stop and turned a round with his hockey stick. He roared and started running _after_ Dart, the tiny thing now turning to escape, but Dustin swung his hockey stick, smacking the creature down the basement steps. Jamie and Dustin both threw themselves over the hatch to close it, both feeling the thumps when Dart tried to get back out.

“Sorry, buddy,” Dustin muttered. “You ate our cat.”

Jamie wedged the broom handle between the handles of the cellar door. Dustin pulled off his protective mask to wipe his face from sweat and Jamie took the opportunity to smack him on his head.

“That was your plan?” she screamed, only now aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks. “To use yourself as bait and bitchslap it into the basement? OUR BASEMENT?!”

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie!” Dustin shouted, fending off her hands. He then proceeded to bitchslap her. It stung smartly on her cheek and for a moment she was too shocked to act. He used that moment to establish contact. “Get your shit together! We need to figure this out before Mom gets home!”

Tears and sweat and snot mixed together on her face. “Where is Mom?”

“I sent her to Loch Nora to look for Mews. Now you got two options: bury Mews out back or clean up the blood in my bedroom. One or the other, going into hysterics is not an option right now. It was enough that you went catatonic for twelve hours.”

“I did what?”

“Focus! Burial or blood, Jamie?!”

She chose burial, because at least that got her out of the house. Still sniffling, she wrapped tiny Mews, or the tattered remains that was left of him, into a shoebox and went all the way out back where she and Dustin had built their tree-house a couple of years back. Dustin had exchanged his oven mitts for rubber gloves and scrubbed away at the stains soiling his wall-to-wall carpet. Now she was thankful for the enhanced hearing, because she heard him wherever he went in the house, trying to establish contact with one of his friends.

Jamie dug a hole, about three feet deep, and gently placed Mews’ box down there. Thinking she should at least say something as she started to bury him, she just whispered: “Sorry.”

Inside, Dustin was getting more and more agitated by the complete radio silence from Mike, Lucas and Will. He was fussy on the details, but something was going on with Will. Jamie opted to try using the phone to reach them, or even Chief Hopper, but could not get through anywhere. Straight to voicemail at the Byers, met with a busy-signal at the Wheelers and stuck with Florence, the secretary, at Hawkins PD.

“What’s our plan here?” she asked Dustin breathlessly after telling Florence that she was only interested in talking to Chief Hopper, not one of his deputies. Her face was covered in sand, Dustin’s in sweat.

Dustin shrugged. “We have to kill Dart.”

“Yeah, no shit, shitbrain!” Jamie snapped. “But how? I’m not going down there. I nearly pissed my pants before. I’ll freeze up again and then it’ll gnaw my face off like it did with Mews and-”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Dustin said calmly with more authority than she thought possible for a thirteen-year-old. He placed both gloved hands at her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Calm down. We’ll figure this out. I’ll ride over to Mike’s, see what’s keeping him. Okay? Okay.”

“I’m not staying here alone with that thing underneath me!”

Dustin shrugged with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Well, maybe if you’d had your driver’s license you could have driven us somewhere, but since you don’t...”

“You’re just winding me up so I’ll forget about being scared. Asshole.”

“Is it working?”

“Yes! You know I can’t - couldn’t - drive because of the pills,” Jamie sputtered and dared Dustin to mention the fact that she could - in fact - not drive at all, regardless of pills. She shook her head, to clear it as much as to get hair out of her face. “I’ll ride over to the Byers, maybe Chief Hopper is there if Will’s not doing good.”

“All right, we meet back at the bus stop down the street. No-one goes near the house alone. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They stared at each other, hugged quickly, and said “Love you!” at the same time.

* * *

No-one was home at the Byers. There was a car she didn’t recognize in the driveway, but the door was locked and no-one answered her even as she knocked incessantly. No Joyce, no Jonathan, no Will and no Hopper. Great. Just great. She resisted the temptation to kick the door, like she’d done back home, because Joyce only barely made things go round and adding house repairs on top of that just felt bad.

On her way to the bus-stop to meet back up with Dustin, still in the middle of the woods that the boys called Mirkwood, she regretted not taking the time to do a full service check on her bike. The rear tire was losing air - fast.

“Shit,” she said and got off the bike to take af look at it. Oh yeah, it was flat. Biking would not only total the bicycle completely, it would be ten times as taxing. “Ugh. Shit!” Not thinking, she kicked the bike.

The whole frame twisted under her foot and she ended up with a bike that could only turn left.

In the middle of the road, she let the bike drop into the ditch and stumbled back. She could just not catch a break! Jesus Christ! Hands laced in her hair, yanking it down her face, she stared at the bike, the empty road, and back to the bike again. Did she have time for a good cry or should she try and bend the bike-frame back, so it at least went a little more forwards than now? She should probably get started on the three-mile trek back home. Dustin would be eaten by Dart long before she ever got back.

Too caught up in her self-wallowing, she completely failed to utilize her so-called superpower and didn’t even notice the car until it was nearly too late. The swimming-pool blue Camaro roared towards her, swerved less than ten feet away from her and screeched to a halt inches before it ended up in the ditch along her bike. The driver tore out of his seat, dressed in blue denim to match his car, with a shiny earring in his right ear.

“Are you goddamn suicidal?” he snarled and thumped the hood of his own car, riled up on adrenaline and anger. “What the hell are you doing standing in the middle of the goddamn road?”

Billy Hargrove - or California - got up in her face, so she could see every strand of hair that made up that trashy mustache dancing across his top lip. “You wanna snuff it so badly, Coma Girl, how ‘bout doing it some way that won’t total my ride?”

Jamie took a step back, cast a glance at his Camaro, pictured him holding the same speed while chasing a couple of middle-schoolers and made up her mind. Fist balled, arm back, she punched him square in the nose. The impact sent shockwaves up her knuckles. He reeled backwards with a trail of blood in the air, already clutching at his banged up nose with a look of mixed shock and fury.

“ _That_ was for trying to run down my baby brother, you Cali piece of shit,” she said in an uneven voice. She met his stare relentlessly, chest heaving with increasing adrenaline. “Now you listen here. I’ve had a really _long_ , and I mean looong, day and the only reason I didn’t knee you in the goddamn balls is because I threw up on your shoes and I feel kinda sorry about that. With that being said, if you ever come near my brother or his friends again, I’ll break your goddamn face.”

Billy stared with wide, steel-blue eyes. His nose had stopped bleeding, leaving just a streak of dark blood mixing with his mustache. She saw his fingers twitch, the fire behind his eyes. “I don’t normally hit chicks-”

“Yeah, and you’ll keep that up if you know what’s good for you,” Jamie finished for him before he could even think that thought through. Inside her mind screamed at her as to what the hell she was doing, but the initial impulse had set of a chain-reaction. She couldn’t do anything but surf the wave. Now his lip lifted, like he couldn’t decide whether to be furious or amused. She didn’t care, couldn’t care. “I need a ride into town.”

He scoffed, a full body reaction, even if a smile threatened to break through on his bloodied face. “You just sucker-punched me and now you’re asking me for a ride?”

Jamie opened the passenger door on his car while maintaining eye-contact. “I wasn’t asking.”

The windows were fully rolled down on both sides of the muscle car. It was sleek and angled, like a streamlined shark, and with plenty of horsepower to suit Billy’s personality. The man in question stalked over to the driver’s side and spat out a thick glob of spit and blood before he got in. “You hit like a girl.”

She just rolled her eyes and waited for him to start the car. He had to light his cigarette first though.

Her heart still hammered in her chest. This was the first time she’d intentionally hit anyone since early middle school, where she punched Bobby Leiman for spying at her in the girl’s room. Jamie wasn’t gonna pretend like she knew anything about fighting, other than to keep her knuckles turned inwards to avoid breaking her own fingers, but she could hold her own. She hoped, at least. Some of her New York-cousins had given her some pointers once.

“Where’d ya need to go, Virgin?” Billy asked, giving her a deep stare from his side, head almost resting on his shoulder. His eyes were heavy again, like he was ready to fall asleep, but not like she was boring him. Quite the opposite. There was something...almost playful in his voice, in his eyes, the way he looked her up and down and she wondered how many girls had sat where she was sitting, being subject to the same scrutiny.

“Just take me to the corner of Barley Avenue and Paddock Road.”

He laughed, like she’d said something funny, and started the car with an angry roar. Billy Hargrove drove like he hated the road, cutting corners and speeding wherever possible. He tore through the countryside, one hand on the wheel, the other stroking the knob on the gearshift. “So, who’s your brother?” When she gave him a pointed look, he shrugged. “So I know who to stay away from.”

“He’s the one that literally looks just like me, if I happened to be a thirteen year old boy,” Jamie answered, because it was the truth. It wasn’t hard to tell they were siblings. They matched even more in the looks-department than Mike and Nancy, and they were pretty similar as well.

Another long scrutinizing look up and down her body. “I’m having a hard time imagining that right now.”

This earned him another eye-roll. She was dressed in ratty jeans and an oversized t-shirt _and_ she was still covered in dirt from when she buried Mews. “Take a left here.”

Billy was fond of needle-sharp turns and she had to grab onto the doorframe to keep from falling over onto his side. He laughed and bobbed his head to the music, some angry rock-song she’d never heard before. This was the first time she’d interacted with him while sober or at least fully conscious. It wasn’t hard to tell why both Steve and Dustin referred to him as a douchebag.

“So I heard Wheeler ran off with your boyfriend. Was that before or after you decided to run off with hers?”

Oh God, she had forgotten all about the high-school drama in the panic revolving around Dart. “What’d you mean she ran off?”

He shrugged, but she noticed the sardonic smile. “They skipped last period on Thursday and no one’s seen them since.”

He was only saying it to get her riled up, but that didn’t mean it was a lie. It probably wasn’t. Nancy wasn’t the kind to skip school though, not for any guy. Karen had said she was sleeping over at Stacy’s, which indicated Nancy had lied to her mom about her whereabouts. So wherever she was, she was there voluntarily. With Jonathan. And now something was going on with Will.

“No comment? Really?”

“You know, the rumor I heard was that I’m pregnant with your baby after Tina’s Halloween party,” Jamie said and gave him a humorless smile. “So any shit about me and Steve or me and Jonathan just pales in comparison.”

“Hah!” he laughed, the cigarette bobbing between his lips. He took a deep drag and exhaled so his face was clouded in smoke. “Yeah, I heard that one too.”

“I am sorry about your shoes though,” Jamie finally said, feeling the mood had lightened a bit.

This time Billy shrugged. “Don’t worry, they’ve seen worse.”

“I bet.” She nodded at the next intersection. “It’s just up here.” The Camaro lurched around the corner and her stomach sank. Dustin was already waiting for her, but not alone. Somehow, he’d cajoled Steve into joining him. That was his car at least, and the guy in question stood leaning on its hood, straightening up when Billy and Jamie pulled into the large bus-stop. The rest of the street twinkled in the background, old Halloween-decorations still out.

“Pales in comparison, huh?” Billy asked with a shit-eating grin on his face. He stopped the car and to Jamie’s annoyance, got out even before she did. His jeans were really tight and probably helped him strut down to stare at Steve inches away from his face. “King Steve, fancy seeing you here.”

Dustin gestured to Jamie behind Billy’s back, the message being pretty obvious: “What the hell?”

She gestured right back, wondering why he’d involved Steve of all people when he had been going over to the Wheelers. In a whispered conversation with her brother, she relayed how her bike broke down and he clarified that Steve was handy with a baseball bat. Okay, she knew that, he had practically saved her life from the Demogorgon. She would still have felt a lot better if it was Chief Hopper who went down in that basement armed with a gun and not Steve with a baseball bat.

Steve and Billy were still standing inches apart, throwing quick-witted remarks at each other, riling each other up to a full-on fistfight. The testosterone was suffocating. She and her brother looked at each other and came to a silent agreement.

Dustin grabbed Steve’s arm and pulled backwards: “Steve, remember the thing we need to go do, like, right now? The actual emergency?”

At the same time, Jamie confronted Billy, stepping between him and Steve so he was forced to look at her instead. She moved towards him so he either had to step backwards or getting knocked over. “Thanks for the ride, now I’m a little sorry about the nose, not that sorry though. This has been great, let’s never to it again.”

Billy called her bluff and stopped going backwards, causing Jamie to crash into him. Her chest met his and it was like pressing up to a brick wall. He was literally all hard muscles. The cigarette-flavored breath from his mouth fanned across her face, making her eyes water.

“I like David, as the name, if it’s a boy,” he said, not relenting an inch even if their bodies were awkwardly pushed together. “Or Sara, if it’s a girl.”

Jamie rolled her eyes, but said nothing. She let him have the last word, figuring it would make him leave faster. Sure enough, when she didn’t respond, he smirked and backed off. Not without blowing kisses to Steve first though. They waited until he tore away from the intersection, before they all deflated and piled into Steve’s car.

“Why would you agree to hitch a ride with that son of a bitch?” Dustin complained, while Steve tried to explain that: “I don’t trust him, not one bit. Not everyone who seem that way is a full-fledged asshole, but that guy, he definitely is.”

“Okay, the alternative would’ve been waiting for the next car to come along,” Jamie snapped when she was tired of the berating. She was already pissed that she got the backseat when it was Dustin in the front. He’d called shotgun. Brat. “I was lucky even he was driving past, that road is usually deserted.”

“What was he doing up that part of Hawkins anyway?” Steve had one hand on his wheel and was using the other one to emphasize his words. “There’s pretty much nothing there apart from the Byers’ and a few hunting cabins.”

“Joyriding?” Jamie shrugged and met Steve’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Don’t know, don’t care. I got a ride and I got to chew him out for nearly running down the boys, so I’m five by five on how that went down. How was I supposed to know you two got unfinished business?”

Steve said nothing, but turned his mirror so she was the full focus, not the road behind them. His eyes crinkled in mirth, before he returned the mirror to its original position and then addressed Dustin: “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

“Told you,” Dustin said in a happy sing-song voice. “She’s back.”

Jamie rolled her eyes, mostly because she couldn’t think of a clever retort, and ended up kicking Dustin’s seat. “Dude!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for reading! There's so much still in store for Jamie that I have no idea how many chapters this will be. I have more than 20 chapters fully done, which equals just half the story. Your reviews keeps me writing, so I appreciate every comment, kudos and bookmark <3


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, so, the good news was that no-one was eaten when trying to take out Dart in the Henderson cellar. The bad news was that Dart had left behind him a pile of soggy skin and then burrowed his way out through their brick wall. So they had essentially set loose an interdimensional creature of unknown size in Hawkins.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god,” Jamie panted as she paced across their living room floor. Their mom was out, thank God, probably at the Sinclairs making posters about Mews. She had been home sometime during the day - she’d left a note and some microwave meals. Hopefully, she would have some wine at the Sinclairs and decide to spend the night - it wouldn’t be the first time. Outside, Saturday night had settled over Hawkins, a true fall night with fog and no moonlight. Cozy, if it hadn’t been for the fact that a dog-sized monster roamed the woods that surrounded their small town.

“Jamie! What did I tell you?” Dustin barked from his position by the kitchen’s table, where he had the full map of Hawkins and its surrounding areas spread out. “No - hysterics!”

She turned on him, happy for an outlet to her frustrations. “I have been having nightmares for a year now, of the thing that attacked me, that killed Barb, that took Will. And I’ve dealt, you know, as best I could because they were just nightmares. Not real. El killed that thing, it was gone, couldn’t hurt me.” Her brother at least had the decency to look mildly ashamed, he was probably guessing where this was going. “AND THEN my _idiot brother_ decides to bring a Demogorgon-tadpole _into this very house!_ My safe space!” She pointed at her chest with shaky fingers. “Just, you know, making my worst nightmare a reality. No big deal! So, I’m sorry, I AM ALLOWED A LITTLE HYSTERICS!”

Panting, she stared at them with wild eyes. Her hair stood up at all ends from when she’d torn at it. Dustin and Steve said nothing - her brother looked irritatingly calm, while Steve Harrington just looked like he would pay a lot of money to be somewhere else right now. Dustin waited until she had taken a few breaths.

“Better?”

“Yes!”

“I didn’t know it was a demogorgon,” Dustin said to Steve, making Jamie scream into her hands. “It was just this tiny thing with two legs and a tail...”

“I know, buddy.”

“It liked nougat! How was I supposed to know that something from the Upside Down would like nougat.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re totally right.”

“You’re doing it again!” Jamie wailed, almost balling up her fists and stomping her feet like a five-year-old. “You’re trying to piss me off to make me forget I’m scared and _it’s working_ , you piece of shit!” With a huff, she stalked over to the kitchen phone and yanked the receiver off.

Dustin half-rose in his chair. “What’re you doing?”

“Trying to reach Hopper again!”

The PD was closed, she only got a voicemail telling her to dial 9-1-1 in case of emergencies. She tried his home-number, but no answer. Byers, nothing. Wheelers, busy-signal. She groaned and leaned her head against the wall. In the end she just had to face it. No-one was coming to their rescue.

Knowing she was being watched by her little brother and Steve Harrington of all people, she slumped down on a kitchen chair and nodded towards the map. “Okay, what’s your plan, dipshit?”

It was a stupid plan, Jamie thought, when she and Steve went to the butcher’s the next morning to buy bucketloads of cubed beef. Steve had said something about hosting a BBQ, which might have made sense if it hadn’t been November. The butcher was more concerned with getting paid than the authenticity of their story, and in that matter, Steve came in handy.

Jamie watched how Steve’s biceps bulged when he lifted the bucket, it was at least 50lbs, and she noticed his confused expression when she managed to lift the second bucket all by herself. She should’ve probably told Dustin about this, but it would just take his focus away from the important things, like trying to stop his murder-pet from eating a pre-schooler or something. Their small team could only take so much distraction. Jamie was still mystified by seeing Steve Harrington first thing in the morning.

He hadn’t looked any different, hair still so tall it almost graced the ceiling at their house, but there was something in his expression when he came shuffling out into the kitchen that morning. They had all spent the night in beds not their own. By general consensus, Jamie took their mom’s bed, Dustin in turn took hers, leaving Steve to wrinkle his nose about sleeping in Dustin’s bed, even if they’d changed the sheets. None of them had probably gotten much sleep, but it was better than nothing since they were forced to wait for daylight anyway. So, that’s how she ended up seeing Steve at his probably most vulnerable, right after he had woken up.

It hadn’t been bad. Just weird. The more she thought of it, the more uncertain she became on how she actually felt about it. Even in the car, she realized it was easier to hold a conversation with Billy Hargrove than with Steve, even though she and Steve technically had been friends for at least a year. That was through Nancy though and she had never even spent time with the guy outside of Nancy’s presence.

With the monster on the loose, small-talking about the weather just didn’t seem appropriate. Thus, the car-rides were quiet as the grave. At least until Dustin got in. Jamie stuck out her tongue when he was the one who had to clamber into the backseat and he responded by flipping her the bird. She grinned. That was the first thing she’d taught him when he was a toddler. Their older cousins, who had taught her, had nearly pissed themselves laughing at baby Dusty stumbling around in his diapers, giving everyone the middle finger.

“Jesus Christ, what’ve you got in that thing?” Steve asked after Dustin had put his overstuffed backpack down with an audible thump.

“Supplies,” he said simply, sounding like he was trying to say ‘surprise’ with a lisp. Dustin looked at Jamie. “I got dad’s travel tool-kit, his Ameriflame, gloves, some nails and screws, petrol and-” he reached into the backpack and came back with some Oreos. “-snacks.”

Jamie nodded and tried to breathe evenly as the landscape zoomed past. They had almost half a cow in the trunk of Steve’s car, but no weapons other than the petrol and the spiked baseball-bat Jonathan had made last year when they first fought the Demogorgon. That whole night was a blur. She remembered sketching up the plans for the trap, huddling in Jonathan’s bedroom, waiting for the yo-yo to move. She shuddered.

“You okay over there?” Steve’s voice pulled her back and she blinked to bring him into focus. Steve shifted his attention between the road and her, not like Billy who would stare at her for seconds at a time, taking the road as it came. Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington had a worried furrow in his brow. “You know, no-one would blame you if you wanted to sit this one out.”

Like magnets, they both looked down at Jamie’s denim-covered left leg. She had the urge to cover it even more, pulling her sweatshirt down over her knee and hiding it under there. Steve looked pale. At least she’d been passed out when they finally got her back from the demogorgon. She had only seen pictures of it, how it looked like when they got to the hospital, nothing but a mess of muscles and blood. It was easy to detach herself from pictures, but Steve had seen it when the leg was a part of her, a pulsating living thing, spurting blood and protruding bones when they tried to move her.

Dustin cleared his throat from the backseat, Jamie and Steve jolted awake and Steve fixated on driving instead of old memories. Jamie absent-mindedly rubbed her knee, where the worst of the scarring started and continued downwards.

“I won’t sit at home while sending you guys out to do the dangerous part,” Jamie said to answer Steve’s question from before. If it had been Hopper, or some of those government-soldiers, sure, she’d let them go alone. But her baby brother and the school’s basketball captain? No. “Besides, the only way I’ll ever sleep again is if I see that thing burn.”

Despite the bravado, she agreed to walk a bit ahead of the guys when they spread out the trail of meat. That way she never risked to fall behind the others and they could have eyes on her at all times if the thing came rushing out of the trees. They hoped it wouldn’t, not in daylight, going of Dustin’s intel that it preferred the dark and cold. The first yards were quiet and tense, but as they moved down the railroad track, they relaxed a bit more. Birds were chirping, a fresh breeze in the air, it was just a beautiful November-day in the woods. If it hadn’t been for the rubber gloves and the pieces of meat they were scattering around, it had all the makings of a Sunday-hike.

Jamie carried the backpack, a hefty thirty pounds worth of supplies, while the boys carried two smaller buckets of meat. She was maybe twenty yards ahead, well out of earshot, had her hearing been normal. Since her hearing was not normal lately, she was forced to listen into what she supposed Steve thought was a confidential conversation. It started innocently enough, even if it irked her that the main reason Dustin had even kept that ugly slug was to impress that girl Max, who she only knew by voice.

“ _It’s not about the hair, man,”_ said Steve in his attempt to explain courting to his young protege. “ _The key with girls is just- just acting like you don’t care.”_

Jamie rolled her eyes. Of all the stupid advice in the world to give a teenage-boy. What Dustin said next made her skin crawl though.

“ _You act like you care around Jamie,”_ he pointed out and Jamie’s fingers squeezed on the strap of the backpack in lieu of Dustin’s throat.

Steve sounded confused. “ _Why would I act like I don’t care about Jamie?”_

“ _Only because she’s had a crush on you since 6th grade.”_

Oooooh, that little shit! She was gonna kill him. He knew she could hear them! Now, if she turned around and yelled at him, Steve would know she’d heard them too and then there would be more explanations and- ugh.

“ _What, Jamie? Jamie Henderson, your sister?”_ It was hard to tell if it was shock or panic in Steve’s voice. “ _Former President of the Physics and Engineering-club and the Middle School Champion at Slug Spitting Jamie Henderson? Are you sure?”_

“ _Uh, yeah, I’m sure. I read her diary all the time before she stopped writing in it. She used to write her name like J-”_

“HEY, DIPSHITS!” Jamie shouted and glared daggers at Dustin, even with the steady rise of a blush up her neck. The two guys guiltily looked up from where they had stopped, rooted to the ground. “You can’t both be monster-bait, come on, let’s go already.”

At least Dustin took the hint that the consequences outweighed whatever he hoped to gain from revealing that to Steve. God, her diary, that seemed like a different life. She hadn’t even known Steve then, just had this vague idea of him from watching him interact with others at their school. With Nancy, he had seemed like the perfect boyfriend though, but she wasn’t Nancy Wheeler. She was Jamie Henderson. She cursed like a sailor, voted blue (or at least would have if she was old enough), never wore skirts and didn’t know how to drive. And Steve liked Nancy and to be fair, who could blame him? Nancy was awesome! She was smart, knew how to shoot a gun, stood up for her friends and wasn’t afraid of anything.

She probably should have been more embarrassed at Dustin spilling her well-kept secret to the person in question. The way that the conversation between Dustin and Steve went however kind of put a damper on the mortification of being outed like that. Especially when Steve mentioned sexual electricity and then revealed the secret to his hair. Farrah Fawcett-spray. Okay then.

Having lead a trail, they ended up at the old junkyard. She and Steve tipped the remaining pieces of meat into a large heap. It had started to smell kind of sweet, like if you left meat out on the counter for too long, and at least the flies were ecstatic at their contribution to the junkyard ecosystem.

“Not craving a burger anytime soon, I’ll tell you that,” Steve said and wiped his nose with the back of his rubber gloved hand. He laughed, a bit strained and Jamie quirked her eyebrow at him. She was spared having to answer, as a voice called out:

_“I said medium-well!”_

Lucas’ familiar short afro of hair popped up from behind an old piece of junk. He was accompanied by a redheaded girl wearing a green adidas-hoodie and jeans.

“Who’s that?” Steve asked, obviously referring to the girl, but Dustin only glowered at the newcomers. Jamie’s eyebrows rose. Ah. Mad Max. Without a word, Dustin pulled Lucas to a secluded spot and Jamie had to concentrate to _not_ hear the irate discussion between the two boys. The girl looked confused, as she’d ridden here with Lucas and obviously knew Dustin, but was suddenly left alone with two high-schoolers.

“Uh, hi?” she said with an unsure smile. Even as a redhead, she was tanner than most people in Hawkins. Made sense, considering she was from California too. She and Billy looked nothing alike, that’s for sure, apart from the tanned skin.

“Hey,” Steve said with both hands at his waist. He looked in the direction Dustin and Lucas had went, gave Jamie a questioning glance, before he shrugged. “All right, let’s get to work.”

“I’m Jamie,” Jamie said to ease the younger girl’s nerves somewhat. Max took her proffered hand. “I’m guessing you’re Max?”

“Yeah,” Max answered, but now looking a little disturbed at this random girl knowing her name. “Have we met?”

“I’m Dustin’s sister.” Jamie indicated for Max to grab the other end of some steel-plates and help carry them to the old school-bus. “The other knucklehead is Steve Harrington, even if he’s too much of a douche to introduce himself.”

“Wait, so you’re Jamie Henderson?” Max was struggling under the weight of the steel, taking awkward steps backwards. “Coma Girl?”

Dick move, but Jamie let go off her end of the boiler plates. Max lost her grip and the edge of the scraped down her shins, just barely avoiding cutting through her jeans. With a pointed look, Jamie bent and hefted the plates up by herself. “Yeah. Coma Girl.”

Max had turned bright red, to match her orange hair, but said nothing. She busied herself by helping Steve carry more and more material over to the bus. Jamie focused on her job. The bus had been there since she was in Middle School, most of the windows smashed and the folding doors were completely unhinged through years of abuse. She rooted through Dustin’s backpack, a hazardous adventure on its own, and produced the Ameriflame-kit, protective gloves, and the vintage welding helmet from the early 1960s. She placed the helmet over her unruly curls, and set up the Ameriflame-kit, a lightweight portable welding-kit from her dad’s time as a part-time mechanic.

“You know how to weld?” Steve stood fixated above her, in the middle of barricading one of the windows.

Jamie turned the knob on the gas, producing a bright hot point at the end of the stick. “I’m the former President of the Physics and Engineering Club,” she said, mirroring his words back to him. She flipped the mask down. “Of course I know how to weld.”

It didn’t mean she was good at it though. Louie was the Master Welder in the club, Connor had a knack for wiring, Frankie did the dimensioning and Jamie did the best soldering. She’d never learned to keep her hand steady at the awkward angles that welding required, but was a master when she could sit in a fixed position like when she soldered motherboards and circuits. The awkward plastic handle of the Ameriflame only made it harder, but she wasn’t trying to make it tight, only solid. Where the steel was too thick to weld with the kit, she got out her rivet gun and essentially stapled the plates together.

The door was busted, but it was nothing she couldn’t fix with a little bit of grease and a screwdriver. It was an old bus, so working the door was done by mechanical means only and she got the handle to work in no time. She tested the speed, wondering if it would be fast enough if a baby Demogorgon came bounding towards them. She applied more grease, watching it bubble and settle into the decade-old hinges.

Max was on the roof of the bus above her, shoving plates down to cover the windshield. Her orange hair glinted like fire in the sunlight as she popped her head out from the roof. “What’s the Physics and Engineering Club?”

“Huh?”Jamie wiped away the sweat stinging in her eyes and squinted at the other girl.

“You said you were the former President of the Physics and Engineering Club. What kinda club is that?”

“Oh, uh, it’s a high-school thing,” Jamie said, still a bit miffed about the Coma Girl thing from before. “Extracurricular activity-stuff. We basically build stuff. There’s some math involved too, but it’s mostly just trying and failing.”

“Is it like the AV-club?” There was something bitter in her voice as she asked. Jamie shook her head.

“Nah, AV is more about working a HAM-radio, maybe even fixing some parts. In PhysEng we build stuff from scratch.” She packed up the Ameriflame, it was out of gas anyway. “Every year we compete in the HSEC: High School Engineering Championship. It’s a different theme each year.”

Max wrinkled her nose. “What’d you mean ‘theme’?”

“Well, it’s like, uh...’kitchen appliance’ or ‘able to fly’ or ‘useful for people in wheelchairs’. It’s just so that they don’t end up with a hundred different fighter robots each year,” Jamie explained, listing some of the categories that had come around the last years. It was kitchen appliance this year, which was why she and the guys were building that self-cleaning toaster. Not that she had done much of the building now that she thought of it. Again, it was like remembering a dream, the period between now and when she woke up from that coma.

“Cool,” said Max and it was obvious that she meant it. She leaned forwards on her knees. “Back in San Diego, me and my best friend Nate spent last summer building a working catapult to throw water balloons at the water towers. We got it throwing like a hundred yards, for real.”

A hundred yards was nothing. The last catapult Jamie had built with the guys had been confiscated by the police for basically being a threat to society, at least the society that was 500 yards away from where they had tested it on the field. She didn’t mention this to Max. Quashing a fellow female tinkerer’s dream was not her style.

“Sounds like the PhysEng-club’s gonna be right up your ally,” she said and handed Max the next boiler plate that was going over the windshield. Olive branch. “God knows clubs like that needs more girls. Or, you know, the world needs more girl scientists in general. Like, did you know that when seatbelts first came, it reduced the amount of men killed in traffic by like this huge percentage, but it actually _increased_ the number of women being killed? Only because those stupid men hadn’t thought of that women are generally smaller than the average male and wears seatbelts differently because of obvious physical differences.”

“No way. For real?”

“Yeah! Or that it took them like ten years before they realized why no women ever used bulletproof vests, because they didn’t make them fit anyone who had more than a AA-cup!” Jamie had found a willing audience in Max, and continued listing the slights against women in modern-day science. “Even this stupid screwdriver! When I work at home, I have to use a kid’s screwdriver, because the goddamn handle is only designed for men, who generally have larger hands!”

“That’s so messed up!”

“I know,” Jamie agreed loudly, using the rivet gun to pop nails into the steel plate. “You skate, right? I bet you twenty bucks you’ve never found a helmet that fits over your hair or lets you have it in a ponytail.”

Max thought for a second before her mouth dropped open in disgust.

“Uh-huh. Because the world is designed _by_ men _for_ men.” Jamie popped more nails into the plates, fixing them to the bus’ exterior. “That’s why we got to stick together, us girls. All girls, those who like pink and wear plaited skirts to school and those who never wear make-up and listen to Metallica in their basement.”

This was her mother’s words, a hard-working woman who had had to fight her way from secretary to accountant. They had always made sense to Jamie, even if she sometimes struggled to practice what she preached. Badass women weren’t badass because they were better than other girls. Badass women were just badass, regardless of any other person.

Steve appeared with some heavy steel beams in his arms. His bangs hung limp in his forehead. “Are you girls done gossiping yet? We only got thirty minutes of daylight left!”

Jamie scowled and popped another nail into the bus. Max made a rude gesture at Steve’s back. He was right in one thing, they were losing daylight fast. By the time twilight rolled around, none of them dared to stay outside the safe confines of the jacked-out bus. Lucas, with his trustworthy binoculars, had climbed up on the roof to keep watch. The rest sat sprawled out in what was left of the old seats.

“So you really fought one of these things before?” Max asked Steve, who just nodded, baseball bat between his feet. “And you're, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn't a bear?”

Dustin swore in disgust, while Steve just glanced at Jamie’s leg where she sat with it pulled up her chin. “Uh, yeah, we’re sure it wasn’t a bear.”

Max followed Steve’s eyes and turned to Jamie. “No way! That was what bit you?”

“Like we already told you!” Dustin was too agitated to sit still and paced around. “Why are you here if you don’t even believe us? Just go home.”

“Sheesh,” Max said while Jamie frowned at her brother. Jamie practically felt Max’ eyes return to her though, to her legs. “You got a scar? Can I see it?”

“No!” snapped Jamie and Dustin in synch.

“Why not? I saw a guy who was attacked by a shark once-”

“This isn’t a shark-bite,” Dustin said with bitterness in every syllable. “Or a bear. Or a coyote or a raccoon. It was a Demogorgon, okay? Now just shut up.”

“Someone’s cranky,” Max said and not even her stone-faced expression could hide the hurt. She climbed up the ladder but not before giving Dustin a final pitying glance, like only thirteen year old girls could. “Past your bedtime or something?”

Jamie sighed and tried to ignore both on-going conversations that she could hear everything in. Instead, she tried to listen outside, to anything that would indicate Dart had picked up the trail. Sniffing, chewing, snarling - any sound at all. It was impossible to tune out the other people in or on top of the bus. Dustin tried to get contact with Chief Hopper through the SuperComm, speaking in a hushed whisper, while Max told a heartbreaking story about her step-brother who was angry _all the time_ now. Step-brother. That explained the vast difference in appearance between the two. Max was a child from a broken home too, except she was half a country away from her father. Jamie and Dustin’s dad was still in Indiana, working as a senior engineer for a large firm in Chicago where her Grandma lived too. She and Dustin was supposed to go there for Thanksgiving.

She supposed she would be angry too, if she had been forced to relocate from a large West Coast-city to Hawkins, Indiana. Not that Billy Hargrove had seemed angry to her, just on edge all the time, waiting for the ball to drop. Now that she thought of it, every time she’d encountered him, he’d helped her in some way. That was not the same experience for all the other kids at school though. Maybe he just didn’t find her interesting enough to rile up, like he did with Steve.

Oh boy, she was not looking forward to Dustin’s heartbreak when he realized Max was into Lucas. Not sure if it was something in their tone of voice or just something in the air, but there was definitely a sort of chemistry between the pair up on the bus-top roof. Jamie glanced at the blowtorch that hung limply from her hand where it rested on her knees. That was a different kind of chemistry. Hopefully the plan worked - Steve played incessantly with the Zippo-lighter - and she never had to light the blowtorch.

_“Ten o’clock! Ten o’clock!”_

Time to find out. Jamie clambered up from her seat to peer out into the night. It looked like a ghost’s playground, with fog laying thick and heavy between the old car-frames. It seemed to dampen all the sounds and she squinted to pick up on any movement. Ten o’clock? There was nothing at-

“I see him,” Dustin said airily and then Jamie did too. It was no longer a baby Demogorgon, more like a teenage Demogorgon. Not fully grown, but still the size of a large dog, the head swaying this way and that as it picked up the scent from the pile of meat. It was going for it though, just standing there, waiting.

“He’s not taking the bait,” Steve whispered. His fingers flexed on the spiked bat. “Why is he not taking the bait?”

“Maybe he’s not hungry?” Dustin asked and they all swallowed, contemplating what he must have eaten to sate his hunger.

Steve took a sharp breath, like he’d made up his mind. “Maybe he’s sick of cow?”

“Steve? Steve, what are you doing?” Jamie hissed at him as he gave the lighter to her brother and went to the door. No way was he going out there. No way. Her heart stopped when he put his foot on the handle to the door.

“Steve?” Dustin asked thinly, but Steve just nodded.

“Just get ready.”

The door opened with barely a sound and out he went. Jamie tripped on her way to the handle to close the door again. Her heart was beating all the way up in her ears, blocking out the sound of Steve chiding the small Demogorgon. She heard the gravel under Steve’s shoes, he was taking slow and careful steps further away from the safety of the bus. His breath was even and deep, unlike hers that barely reached her lungs before it jolted out of her nose.

Lucas called down from his rooftop position. “What’s he doing?”

“Expanding the menu. Jamie?”

“I’m ready,” she said in a thin voice she hardly recognized. She stood by the door, ready to wrench it open if - when! - when Steve made his retreat. Their plan was to light Dart on fire from within the bus. He had to make Dart step into the line of fire, and then he had to get back here.

Simple plan. Easy-peasy.

“Steve, watch out!” Lucas called.

“A little busy here!”

“Three o’clock! Three o’clock!”

Jamie and Dustin pressed their noses up to the small lookout-hole. Her breath caught in her throat. She could count one, two, three-

“He’s surrounded!” she whispered and Dustin flew to the bus-door and yanked it open.

“STEVE! ABORT! ABORT!”

The world flipped and chaos ruled. Steve came rushing in with one of the things close on his heel. Jamie grabbed Steve by his sleeve and yanked him inside. She pushed the button on the blowtorch down and the creature screeched in the face of the fire, giving Dustin time to close the doors. Lucas and Max slid down the ladder.

“They can’t get in, right?”

Jamie screamed when the door rattled on its hinges. They had rigged the bus for _one_ baby Demogorgon, not a whole pack! Steve clambered over Jamie with another sheet of metal, brandishing it with his feet to solidify the door. The entire bus shook and they all screamed.

Steve lost grip on the metal sheet and a long clawed arm swiped through the flimsy material. Jamie brandished the blowtorch, squeezing the button down like her life depended on it all the while screaming like a madwoman. The flame hit flesh and the smell of burnt rubber permeated the bus. The arm retracted and Steve lifted her off the floor and threw her to the side. Another demogorgon crashed through the door, but got caught right in its still-closed head with a bat full of nails.

Dustin screamed into the SuperComm: “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God! Anyone! Shit! We're at the old junkyard, and we are going to die!”

“Steve, WATCH OUT!” Jamie hollered just in time for Steve to turn around and swipe the bat at another creature. They were everywhere! They clambered on the roof, tried to break through the windows, pounding at the bus to get an opening, to get to them! Instinctively, Jamie threw herself atop of Dustin when one of the metal sheets gave out and the monster got one arm in again. Blowtorch up, the creature shrieked and withdrew. Up front, Steve was busy bashing one of the thing’s heads in. The pitiful squealing would haunt Jamie’s dreams for a long time.

Steve pushed Max out of the way when another one found the opening in the roof. Bat ready, feet placed, he issued a challenge. “You want some? Come get this!”

Jamie held her breath. She just waited for a flowerbulb-head to come swooping down and swallow Steve whole. It never came. The creature screeched, and she couldn’t believe it when she heard it scramble off the roof. In fact they all went.

“Maybe it’s a trick,” she whispered in a hoarse voice. Her fingers were locked around the blowtorch, ready to squeeze at even the hint of sound. They all nodded in a silent vow to keep quiet. She and Steve nodded to each other. They would go up front, being the elder teenagers of the group.

Jamie hardly dared to breathe as she followed Steve to the front of the bus, one quiet step after another. She hadn’t even noticed that they were holding hands, squeezing each other tightly, before Steve gently released his grip and placed her hand on his arm instead. He needed two hands for the bat. She only needed one for the blowtorch. Another nod. Her fingers curled into the expensive fabric of his jacket. She wasn’t sure if he allowed her to hold onto him for her sake or for his. Either way, it was reassuring.

Steve pushed the door open, not bothering with the handle. The mechanism Jamie had fixed earlier had been torn loose when the creatures tried to get in. It was silent as the grave outside. Not a euphemism she particularly enjoyed right then. The door _bang_ ed when Steve got out and Jamie had to squeeze her bladder to avoid pissing her pants.

Steve’s bicep flexed and twisted each time he readjusted his grip on the bat. She peered over his shoulder - it looked clear. They both froze as they heard some growling, but saw the edges of some tails disappear into the night on the other side of the junkyard. The creatures left. They were alone.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Jamie groaned and leaned her head on the back of Steve’s shoulder, not releasing his arm. For several seconds inside, she had been sure they would die, torn apart by the same kind of teeth that had tried to kill her a year ago. Steve mumbled something, and turned to hug her with one arm so her face was trapped in the crook of his neck.

“What happened?” Lucas asked, being the first one out of the bus after Jamie. Jamie and Steve released each other at the same time, neither of them meeting the other’s eyes, and Jamie swallowed Dustin in a hug the second he stepped off the bus.

“Steve scared them off?” Dustin suggested to Lucas, his voice muffled from being held inside Jamie’s wild curls.

“No.” Steve sounded confident, even if his eyes darted around the junkyard, scanning for threats. “No way. They’re going somewhere.”


	6. Chapter 6

The trek back to Steve’s car seemed to stretch on forever. The same woods that had seemed so bright and cheerful earlier was dark and forbidding now. It didn’t help that Jamie could see everything as clearly as if she had a pair of flashlights stuck to her head. There were too many noises too, from the trees creaking to the critters stirring in the ground.

Steve had suggested they all head back to his. The logic was sound. If they came home covered in grime and monster blood, there’d be questions. Steve’s parents were gone for the weekend, he had five separate bathrooms in his house and spare clothes that would probably fit all of them with some minor modifications. Again, sound logic, but Jamie still thought he suggested it mostly so he wouldn’t be left alone after their brush with near-death. That was how she felt anyway.

Every time a branch snapped or an owl hooted, her hand went out on its own, searching for something to hold on, usually finding Steve. She had no idea how he could be so calm and collected, the spikes on his bat were still dripping goo, but he was. Solid as a rock. Cool as a cucumber. Each time she’d grip the fabric of his jacket, he’d place a calming hand on her shoulder, waiting for her to say she was okay to move on.

Her left leg tingled, the torn up muscles unused to this amount of walking. The blowtorch hung heavy in her arm and she was scared all the fuel was gone, but daren’t leave it behind in case it wasn’t. She and Steve were up front, each with their weapon of choice. He was busy scanning the horizon for any threats, she was there to avoid listening to the bickering of her brother and his friends. Instead, she and Steve carried a vastly different conversation, free of monsters.

“In the master bathroom, we have that kind of waterfall-shower installed last year. Ever try one of those? It’s like a showerhead three times larger than normal, like you’re in a warm, well, waterfall.”

“Do you have soft towels?”

“Oh, the towels! Dude, we have those expensive Egyptian cotton towels. It’s like wrapping yourself in a cloud.” Steve gestured with his free hand, looking over his shoulder at Jamie where she was half a step behind him. “I plan to live in that towel when I come home now. Shower, order some pizza, watch - you know - any film that’s on TV that takes place in daylight.”

“I can’t wait to put on fresh clean clothes. Clean socks, most of all, I feel like the ones I have on have become one with my feet, permanently.”

“No problem.” Steve shook his head, letting his fringe dance around. “You can borrow some of Mom’s stuff, or my stuff if you want, all clean, I swear. You want tennis socks, fuzzy socks, dance socks, I got it all.”

Jamie smiled, appreciating him humoring her by talking about anything else than what just happened. The boys though were a different story. She scowled and tapped Steve’s arm to get him to stop. Dustin and Lucas were in each other’s faces, with Max as an awkward audience, and they were arguing about breaking some party law.

“Guys, come on,” Jamie started and moved to break them up, but Steve gripped her wrist to keep her in place.

“You hear that?” he asked. Of course, Jamie heard everything these days, but it was getting increasingly difficult tuning in on what she wanted to hear. Screeches. Like the newly dubbed Demodogs made. Steve went off the railroad tracks, following the sound a few feet and Jamie followed, not wanting to be left alone.

The noise was far off, but Steve still brandished his baseball-bat. They looked at each other. What could have drawn the Demodogs away from them back at the school-bus? It was worth investigating.

“ _Guys!”_ she and Steve shouted at the same time, finally getting Lucas’ and Dustin’s attention. They heard it too. In silent unison, they started to move towards the screeching, leaving a confused Max behind. She followed quickly though. It was better to face the unknown in company than alone after all.

They reached a ridge that had a view all over Hawkins and the surrounding forest. Lucas produced his binoculars, trying to pinpoint the origin of the sounds. Jamie squinted her eyes, as if that aided her hearing.

“It’s the lab,” she said and Lucas trained his sight at the huge, ugly building in the distance. It was dark, but there was no doubt in Jamie’s mind that the sounds came from there. A new chill ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold dark forest. Nothing good ever came from that lab.

“Guys. I-” she started and faltered. Did Steve know about her regular check-ups at that place? That this was where they treated Will too, when he was having one of his episodes? Did it matter? There hadn’t been anyone home at the Byers’ and Dustin had mentioned something was up with Will. “I think Will’s at the lab.”

They picked up their pace, ignoring Max’ new bout of questions. Lucas had laid the groundwork, but apparently she hadn’t believed him and so hadn’t really bothered to pay attention to the details. It seemed superfluous now to repeat anything. They moved in quiet through the woods, picking branches and leaves out of their clothes and hair, sometimes getting smacked with a twig after the one ahead of them forgot to give warning. The guys all had flashlights, Max had none and Jamie didn’t need one.

“Gate’s down here,” she said and indicated the direction of the main gate, not the decoy parking lot her mom used to park in. The building loomed ahead of them, looking like a dead animal, all black and unmoving.

“Stop, stop, stop,” Steve said and held out an arm to still the small group. Jamie had heard it too, someone calling out down by the gate.

“ _Hello? Who’s there?”_

Whoever they were, they sounded more scared than them. Steve indicated for Jamie to get a bit more behind him, so she did, and he went ahead with his flashlight raised. Two figures stood alone on the small patch of grass near the tall wired fence by the gate. When they got closer, Steve lowered the flashlight to reveal Nancy and Jonathan.

“Steve?!” they burst out in unison at the same time that Steve said: “Nancy? Jonathan?”

“Nancy!” was Jamie’s only exclamation and she rushed ahead to envelop the other girl in a hug. It must have shocked her, because it took several seconds for Nancy to return the hug. “I heard you ran off wit- I heard you ran off! Where’ve you been?”

Nancy pulled away from the hug and gaped at her, a good expression for her face, considering she was basically just two large eyes and a mouth. “Jamie?”

“Jonathan?” said Dustin in a voice laced with as much irritation as shock. “What the hell are you guys doing here?”

The two groups joined as one and questions flew past each other, most going unanswered. Nancy and Jonathan were here for Will and Mike, but couldn’t get past the gate. Dustin quickly explained the Demodog-situation, one that Steve emphasized by showing off the goo on his bat.

Nancy grabbed Jamie’s arm and pointed questioningly at Max. “Who’s that?”

“Oh, that’s Max,” was Jamie’s only reply and she grinned as she said it. She was truly and genuinely happy to see Nancy and that she was OK. At Nancy’s confused expression, Jamie clarified: “She’s in the same year as Dustin and Lucas. From California.”

“Hargrove’s sister?” Nancy asked with disgust dripping from her tongue, causing Max to scowl and wrap her arms around herself.

“I’m not his sister,” she said defiantly, and Nancy continued to stare. It went back to Jamie though.

“And you...?”

“It’s a long story, but essentially Dustin adopted a baby Demogorgon as his pet but then it ate Mom’s cat and then we tried to kill it but nearly got killed instead,” Jamie said breezily, gesturing at Steve. “Dustin somehow convinced Steve to help out, I don’t have the details there. So, uh, where the hell have you been? I heard you skipped school on Thursday and your mom has been telling me you’ve spent each night at a different girl’s house, so, that’s obviously bullshit.”

“Oh, uh,” Nancy said and tucked her chin-length hair behind her hair. She was about to start explaining, when she made a face and asked: “Are you okay, Jamie? You seem...well, you seem okay, but - uh - different?”

“She’s got superpowers now,” Dustin chimed in and ducked as Jamie swiped at him.

Nancy stared _again_ and Jamie just shook her head no. “Don’t listen to him. I don’t have superpowers.”

“Yes, you d- ow!”

“I don’t. But I did stop taking those pills the doctors working there-” she pointed at the ominous lab “-prescribed me and now I’m feeling a lot better. Big shocker. You?”

“I got arrested by the doctors working there-” Nancy pointed too “-and taped their confession before we worked together with a journalist to mail copies of the tape to every major newspaper in the country in order to get justice for Barb.”

“Nice.” Jamie grinned.

Nancy grinned back. “Yeah. It was.” Her smile faltered and she looked beyond Jamie and the others. Jamie turned to see what she was seeing. “Guys, the power’s back on.”

“Wait, are we going inside _to_ the scary monsters?” Max asked, but was unheard as they all rushed down to the gate. Jonathan flew into the security officer’s cubicle, but the gate stayed shut. Dustin, like Jamie herself, was convinced that he was always the best person for a job and therefore shoved Jonathan out of the way to slam the buttons himself.

For some reason, after the he’d kicked and swore at the box, the gates opened. And for some reason, Nancy and Jonathan got in their car and told everyone else to stay put. Jamie slunk back to lean against the cubicle with Steve.

“So much for that shower,” he said sardonically, but the light was gone from his eyes now. Apparently, seeing Nancy and Jonathan together had hit him kinda hard. Lucas, Dustin and Max milled around aimlessly, all staying within the few feet of light emitted from a lamppost.

“Yeah.” Jamie didn’t know what to tell Steve. Nancy and Jonathan had obviously conspired together to get justice for Barb, and Steve had been left in Hawkins to help her brother kill a Demodog.

“Listen,” Steve said slowly, like he was working out each syllable before he said it. He cast a glance at the kids, as if to check none of they were listening. They weren’t. Steve rubbed the toes of his shoes in the gravel, not looking at her. “I’m sorry if I - uh - if I was an asshole to you in Middle School.”

Jamie’s eyebrows rose. “Everyone is an asshole in Middle School. Just look at this lot.”

“Your brother’s okay.” Steve smiled, but Jamie rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be fooled by his teddybear-appearance. _My brother’s a total dick._ ” She rose her voice on the last part and like clockwork, Dustin gave her the finger from where he was studying the goo left on the baseball bat.

Steve chuckled lowly and looked down at his hands. “Truth was, I was a little intimidated by you in Middle School.”

“I didn’t even think you knew who I was in Middle school.”

“Are you kidding me?” He bumped her shoulder with his. “You were undefeated Slug Spitting Champion!”

“Just what a girl wants to be remembered for, how well she could hit slugs with spit.”

Steve was quiet for a while and Jamie wondered if he was recalling how he absolutely sucked at hitting those fat slugs with wads of spit. Instead, he said: “But, uh, seriously. If I ever said anything or- I’m sorry, that’s all.”

Jamie rolled her head his way to give him a quirked brow. “Dude. You saved my life twice now. I’d say that makes up for anything you could’ve possibly said in Middle School. Besides, I-”

She froze mid-sentence. Loud banged echoes penetrated the otherwise quietness.

“Gunshots.”

“What? Are you sure? I didn’t hear anything.” Steve gestured for Dustin to return his baseball bat.

Jamie just nodded and closed her eyes to listen. Gunshots. Screaming. Car honking. Screeches. Her eyes flew open. “Get out of the road!”

They had just enough time to run to the side before Jonathan’s busted up Ford skidded through the gate. It didn’t stop for them, but the next car did - Chief Hopper’s Chevy pick-up.

Jamie had never been so happy to see another person ever in her life, as she as when she saw the trustworthy scowl on Jim Hopper’s face.

“Get in!”

Steve tore open the passenger-side door and flung the seat forward, shuffling all the kids into the back. Jamie froze where she stood. The growls and screeches from the Demodogs were closing in. Fast. She opened her mouth to scream as she caught sight of the first one, running on all fours to the car.

“GET IN!” Steve and Hopper both screamed, and Jamie flinched when Steve grabbed her, pulled her onto his lap and slammed the car-door shut. “Go go go go!”

Chief Hopper drove like Hell was on his tail and in many ways, it was. Jamie’s mind entertained the idea of arranging a car-race in Hawkins, just to see who was faster between Chief Hopper and Billy Hargrove. The erratic driving had her bouncing all over the place, only Steve’s arms preventing her from falling out the window. Dustin was screaming in the backseat to slow down - they were rattling like popcorn kernels in the microwave.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Jamie asked when she finally found her voice and they were at least two miles away from the lab. Chief Hopper was not in his usual uniform, but rather in some form-fitting teal scrubs like hospital staff wore.

Chief Hopper laughed gruffly. “Long story, kiddo.”

Steve apologized every time he had to move his hands, as they either landed on her hips or legs. He adjusted her so he wasn’t choking on her hair. “Sorry. Sorry. Where are we going?”

“Byers,” Chief Hopper replied, chewing on his fingernails. Something was bothering him, something that overshadowed any joy of escaping Hawkins Lab alive. He had an assault rifle by his side, one that he checked on every few seconds.

“What’s wrong with Will?” asked Dustin, shoving his head forward between the seats.

“Don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know, he’s-”

“We - don’t - know!” Hopper yelled and Jamie pushed Dustin’s head back gently to prevent him from agitating the Chief further. “Let’s just get to the Byers’ house first. Then we’ll figure out what we’re gonna do.”

Jamie sighed and leaned back, but jolted back up when Steve winced. “Sorry. I’m crushing you.”

“No, no, no,” he said quickly, though it was an obvious lie. “You’re light as a feather, Henderson.”

“You’re full of bullshit, Harrington,” Jamie replied and tried to shift her weight more onto the center console, without hitting the gearshift. They kept trying to change positions all the way to the Byers’ house, failing completely to find something comfortable for both of them, and sighed a breath of relief when the Chief finally parked the car.

Jamie stretched her back while Steve rubbed his thighs, and in silence they all went inside where the others already waited. Nothing could have prepared any of them for what they found inside. Last time she’d been her, the place had been lit up like a Christmas tree, with hundreds of multi-colored lights strewn across the entire one-story house. Now it was drawings. They were everywhere - on the floor, ceiling, walls, crossing into different rooms and over furniture. It looked like a maze or something, they were all connected, but no-one seemed inclined to explain anything so they all shuffled into the kitchen where at least the lights were on.

Will laid on the couch in the living room, still as a corpse and shrouded in a white blanket. Jonathan knelt by his side, Nancy at Jonathan’s again. Jamie stared from the kitchen doorway. She could not imagine being in Jonathan’s shoes, if it was Dustin instead of Will laying there. God, but she guessed Dustin knew what it was like. Was that how her mom and Dustin had stood over her, when she had been lost from this world all that time? Not dead, but not present either?

“Is he gonna be okay?” Dustin appeared next to her. She had no answers for him. Instead, she wrapped an arm across his shoulder and pulled him tightly to her. Steve paced the living room just outside the kitchen, like he was keeping guard, and Hopper was on the phone trying to alert the National Guard to the emergency.

They weren’t believing him.

It was a big hot mess right now. At least Dustin was safe, for now. No-one had said it yet, but those things were still out there. Dustin had kept close watch of Dart and he’d grown from a tadpole to a dog-sized monster in a matter of days. It was only a matter of time before they were full-grown Demogorgons and it had taken a small army and Eleven to kill even one of those things last year. Now there were a whole pack of them. If they tore through Hawkins, they would kill everyone in its wake. Their teachers, their friends, their families...

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Dustin said from beside her and reached over to embrace her fully in a hug. Jamie hadn’t realized it, but tears were dripping from her eyes. “What’d I say, Jamie? No hysterics, remember?”

Jamie nodded, too choked up with tears to speak, and clutched at Dustin’s hoodie like a lifeline. When had her baby brother grown this much? She kissed the top of his head, hugging harder, until he tapped desperately at her arm.

“Choking. Choking!”

She released him and wiped hastily at her eyes. “Sorry.”

“Jeez, dude,” Dustin said and fixed his shirt so it wasn’t laying straight on his throat. He dropped his voice to a whisper: “You realize you’re basically turning into Spiderman, right?”

“I’m not turning into Spiderman.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Shut up, dipshit.”

“You shut up, mouth breather.”

They stopped at the same time, now aware of their audience. Jamie shoved at Dustin, who instantly shoved back, and shrugged to the rest of the guys. “Sorry. Nerves.” They all returned to staring gloomily out into thin air. Until Mike got up, grabbed a block puzzle from the living room table and then began talking about the newly deceased Bob Newby and how to honor his name.

In a matter of minutes, the gang was discussing a way to save the world - again.

“Wait, wait, hive mind?” Steve was not following the rapt conversation. Jamie struggled a bit too. She had never played D’n’D, not her scene, but the boys were still in that age were they could believe this was all some big adventure, like their campaigns. So when Dustin said this was just as the Mindflayer, she was as blank as Steve and the others.

Everything they said, made sense. Will feeling the pain inflicted upon other in the same hive mind state, how the Mindflayer tried to take over entire universe by enslaving other races, how if they killed the Mindflayer - the Shadow Monster - they killed everything he controlled. Everything made sense, until Dustin started talking about summoning an undead army as their best bet to take the Mindflayer down.

“Dustin,” Jamie groaned and let her head thump into the table.

“Okay, I’ll admit, that isn’t very practical, but-”

Chief Hopper, a man who had a glimmer of hope before it was snuffed out by overeager teenage nerds, slammed the D’n’d-manual on the table. “What the hell are we doing here?”

They argued about how to deal with this, until Joyce emerged from her bedroom. Joyce Byers had once been the prettiest girl in high school, according to Jamie’s parents. Then she’d married an asshole, had two kids and a divorce, and it had taken its toll on her looks. She was still good-looking, just a little worse for wear, but now she looked absolutely dreadful. She wrung her hands together nervously. “We have to kill it. I want to kill it.”

“ Me, too. - I - Me, too, Joyce, okay?” Chief Hopper went to meet her in the hallway, his voice mild and low, but easy to hear for someone like Jamie. “But how do we do that? We don't exactly know what we're dealing with here.”

Mike sprung up, but walked to Will instead of Joyce. “No. But he does. If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it's Will. He's connected to it. He'll know its weakness.”

“I thought we couldn't trust him anymore.” Max was the one who said it, though most of them thought it. “That he's a spy for the Mindflayer now.”

“Yeah, but he can't spy if he doesn't know where he is.”

* * *

“How did I get stuck doing the heavy lifting?”

Jamie was basically a carbon-copy of Dustin. Stocky build, but with twig-like arms and no real strength beyond a quick mouth. And still, Chief Hopper had enlisted her help in cleaning out the old shed behind the Byers’. It was, like all old sheds, filled with junk. A stained old couch, defect TV, Will’s old toys, crates of vinyls, curtains, anything you could imagine. Chief Hopper scooped up as much as he could at once and dumped it a few feet outside the shed. Jamie followed suit, but tried to stack the boxes in case it had some nostalgic value for the owners.

Chief Hopper was chewing on his lip as he worked, occasionally glancing at Jamie, but not saying anything. Whenever she caught him staring, she met his gaze evenly with raised eyebrows.

“I - uh - I talked with Doctor Owens,” he finally said and Jamie paused in lifting a box labeled ‘CHRISTMAS LIGHTS’.

“What, now?”

“No, no, earlier, when Will was- when we were there with Will,” Hopper said and rubbed the back of his neck. He still wore the ugly scrubs, but with his patrol jacket over it, to give an inkling of authority. As far as Jamie had understood it, Doctor Owens was still at the lab - presumed dead...or worse. “He - uh - he told me you passed out at school.”

“Oh,” Jamie said cleverly and bent down to take another box to hide her face. “Yeah, uh, it was nothing. Just a flu.”

“Yeah.” Chief Hopper had stopped cleaning the shed and paused to light a cigarette. “Uh, he told me to keep an eye out on you, in case you went off your meds.”

Saying nothing, Jamie carried the box outside. Shit. Shit shit shit.

Chief Hopper had a way of asking questions that made you want to tell him the answer. It was probably that what made him a good cop. “What meds did they have you on?”

She shrugged. “It’s called Stablon, but that’s all I know. Mom handled the prescriptions.”

“Stablon,” Chief Hopper repeated, tasting the word, turning it over to see if it rang any bells. “Am I right to assume you’ve stopped taking them?”

Jamie froze in the vicinity of the good old Chief Hopper-stare. A bad liar from the get-go, she had no way of outwitting a veteran cop. Still, she tried to look at his shoulder instead of his face. “No.” He only had to wait a few heartbeats before she relented. “Yes.”

Hopper grabbed her by the shoulders and bent down, forcing her to look at him. His cigarette smoke hit her in the face, but was quickly carried away by the breeze outside. There was something hard in his eyes when he said: “Good.”

“Good?” she repeated and stared at him. “Really?”

“I don’t trust those bastards,” he grunted and went back to emptying the shed. “And I wouldn’t accept any fact from them without ten other sources backing it up. I’ll keep an eye on you, so you won’t go looney on us, but as far as I’m concerned, those pricks only look out for themselves and don’t give a rat’s ass about us. They say you gotta take some pill, I say shove it up their ass.”

Jamie followed him back inside and blurted out: “Dustin thinks I’m developing superpowers.”

Hopper had his back to her, halfway bent over an old keyboard and he froze there for a few seconds, but he didn’t turn around. He continued to carry the keyboard out and said: “Superpowers I can deal with.” Hopper paused after dumping the instrument on the pile outside. “Uh, what kind of superpowers are we talking about?”

She had picked up an item at random and held it while she talked. “I can hear someone talking 500 yards away like they’re standing right next to me.” That was the best thing about telling stuff to Chief Hopper. He didn’t overreact, or react at all, until he had thought things through. “And I’m getting kind of strong.”

He took a long drag from his cigarette and nodded. “I bet. That gun safe you’re holding weighs almost 200 pounds.”


	7. Chapter 7

The goal had been to transform the shed until it was unrecognizable for Will, and by extent, the thing in there with him. They covered every surface in tarp, newspapers, garbage bags and duct tape. Even the furniture was disguised in cardboard. Jamie and Nancy were struggling to cover every last inch of the door — the duct tape did not want to stick to the dusty tarp.

“Uhm, Jamie?” Nancy asked, less than three inches to Jamie’s right.

Jamie grunted, duct tape pieces in between her lips. “Yuh?”

“I’m sorry for ditching you at that party. I was really drunk and stupid, but I should have made sure you got home safe.”

“I’m a month older than you.” Jamie spat out some remaining pieces of tape. “You don’t need to babysit me. Besides, Steve took me home.”

“Yeah,” Nancy said and smiled down at her hands. “About that. Just know that I wouldn’t have any problems with you and him... you know.”

“Know what?” Jamie thumped the stupid door in the case that got the tape to stick. The party seemed ages ago, like a different life. “I think we need the staple gun for this.”

Nancy sputtered something, but fell silent when Steve came over with the stapler. “You need something nailed, ladies?”

“Here and here,” Jamie said and indicated where he should staple the tarp down. He lost his suave smirk and did as told. “Then we can use the tape to attach this piece to that sheet over there.”

Steve tucked the staple gun under his arm and followed her directions. “Like this?”

“Yeah, hold still,” Jamie said and bent awkwardly under his arms to tape the pieces together. Nancy still sat on the floor, holding the already attached tarp, and stared. She didn’t move until Jamie kicked her shoe and said: “Nancy, get that loose corner there, would you?”

When it was done, all the kids were directed back inside the house, all except Jonathan and Mike. From the kitchen window, they watched Jonathan carry the unconscious Will across the leaf-filled lawn and into the newly constructed cage.

“They’re gonna tie him up, aren’t they?” Dustin whispered and Jamie slipped her arm around his shoulders and squeezed. Dustin shook off her embrace, removed his cap and ran his hand through his curls a few times. Jamie watched him go, heart aching, without a clue how to make this better for him. She felt watched, and looked up to see Steve with a slight smile.

“What?”

“You both do that.” He used his hand to draw a line between Dustin and Jamie a few times. “That hair-thing, where you ruffle up your curls.”

“I do not,” Jamie said and caught herself with her hand halfway to her head. She let it drop. “Great, now it feels weird to do it. So what, exactly? You mess with your hair all the time.”

“True, but I do it with purpose,” Steve said and slung the bat over his shoulder. “You do it without thinking.”

Jamie mimed the way he said it and rolled her eyes. Now, she caught Nancy staring. “What?”

She shook her head quickly, like it was nothing. Whatever Jamie planned to say was wiped out when the lights flickered all over the house. That was a deja vu from last year. Only, when that happened last year, it meant the Demogorgon was coming.

It passed. No Demogorgon. She and Nancy looked at each other, glad to see they hadn’t been alone in their sudden panic. Steve swung the bat a few times and let out a long breath. “Sheesh.”

The day stretched on. Nancy made sure everyone had something to eat, even if it was a bowl of cereal, and Jamie helped her clean the kitchen the best they could afterwards. The Byers household was evidentially a busy one. Joyce was a single mom with two teenage boys and that left the house looking a little erratic at times. The house was on the smaller side, too, and felt even smaller with all the stuff jammed into it. Jamie doubted Joyce gave a rat’s ass about how her house looked right now, but Nancy insisted on tidying up.

They all jumped when the door slammed open and Chief Hopper stalked inside, the others from the shed on his heel. He ignored all questions, grabbed a book from the bookstand and sat at the kitchen table. Using a crayon and the back of a cereal box, he wrote out some dots and lines.

“I think he’s talking,” he said to answer their endless questioning. He showed them the paper, now with letters underneath each cluster of lines and dots. Using morse-code, Will had spelled out the word ‘HERE’. “Just not with words.”

The mood lifted. There was hope.

The ones closest to Will went back into the shed, to keep talking to him, holding onto what was left of Will. Chief Hopper grabbed one of the SuperComms and concealed it behind his back. Jamie and Dustin were in charge of listening to the signal, writing down the dash and dots. Max and Lucas checked the table to couple it with a letter, which Nancy dutifully wrote down in large, crayoned letters. It took hours. Jamie imagined it took every bit of Will’s strength to break through the Mindflayer’s hold to send the message and it could be half an hour between each new signal for Hopper.

In the end, they had the message.

“Close gate?” they all asked in unison as they stared on the large letters Nancy had taken down. There was no guesswork involving what gate he meant. The gate to Upside Down.

The phone rang. A shrill and penetrating sound.

“Shit! Shit shit shit!” she and Dustin blurted at the same time and fell over each other to get to it. Dustin won and tore off the receiver. He slammed it back down, even as Jamie said: “No, don’t!”

It took a second before it rang again. Nancy was not having that and she pushed Dustin to the side and tore off the entire contraption, slamming it into the hallway floor. It gave a sad jingle, then it died.

“If he heard that...” Jamie started. She panted from the sudden rush of adrenaline.

“It’s just a phone. Could be anywhere, right?” Steve asked, but without much conviction. They all stared in the direction of the shed. The hive mind meant Will would be able to communicate with the rest of the Mindflayer’s army and bring the Demodogs right to their location.

“Oh God,” Jamie said and wanted to cover her ears. She heard it first, of course she did, a howling roar out in the dark. Unable to look away, she stared at the forestline surrounding the Byers’ house. They were coming.

“Do you hear them?” Dustin asked and she nodded. There wasn’t enough spit in her mouth to say something. They all heard the second roar, a collective shudder passing through the group, and Dustin said what was on everyone’s mind: “That’s not good.”

It was an understatement. Jamie grabbed Dustin by his collar and dragged him inside the house. “Everyone get in!”

“Can we outrun them?” asked Nancy, obviously considering taking the cars and leaving.

Dustin threw out his arms: “Not likely! And where to? We can’t lead them into town!”

“House’s our safest bet,” Steve said as they all filed into the living room. He had both hands gripped around the bat. “Hopper’s got that machine gun, that’s gotta be worth something.”

Jamie’s fingers flexed in the air, as if she was squeezing an invisible blowtorch. It was probably on the floor of the Chief’s car, and it had been nearly out of gas anyway. Her breath was quick and raggly and filled her ears, which she didn’t mind because it meant not listening to the roaring of the Demodogs coming closer.

“Jamie? Jamie!” Dustin cried after her when she stalked into the kitchen. Fire. They hated fire. Undoing all of Nancy’s work, she rooted through the cabinets, looking for something — anything — she could make a weapon of. Everytime she blinked, she was back here at this house, a year ago, when the drawings on the wall were Christmas lights and all they knew was that the Demogorgon could smell blood. She was back here, rigging up the trap for the Demogorgon, while Jonathan knocked spikes into his bat and Nancy loaded up the small rifle. Then it had only been one, and they still hadn’t been able to put up a fight.

“Jamie!” Dustin said again and she nearly knocked him over when he laid a hand on her shoulder. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, it’s just me.”

“Dustin,” she said as if seeing him for the first time. Her face was slick with tears and sweat. She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “Don’t worry. I remember. No hysterics.”

He grinned, even when faced with this hopeless situation, and Jamie couldn’t help but grin back. She found what she was looking for behind him on a shelf. A can of Hot Shot wasp and hornet killer. She upended Dustin’s backpack on the kitchen table and picked out two heavy-duty rubber bands. At least her newfound strength came in handy when she bent a table spoon to a 90 degree angle.

“Are you making a flamethrower?” Dustin followed her ministrations without interfering. “I thought you had specific constraint from the police about making fire-based weaponry.”

“It’s just a small one,” Jamie said to her defense. She slipped the two rubber band over the can and fitted the spoon into the bands. In a drawer, she found a piece of candle that she broke so it was just an inch high. “You got matches?”

Dustin had matches, which he relented willingly. She held a lit match underneath the candle, dribbled wax onto the spoon until it formed a base, and then secured the candle-stub there so when she lit it, the flame would be directly in the line of fire for the spray nozzle. She held it up for inspection just as Chief Hopper and the rest barged into the kitchen. Will was unconscious again and hung limply in his brother’s arms. Jonathan disappeared into a bedroom and returned sans Will.

“Jesus Christ, be careful with that thing,” Hopper admonished Jamie when he saw the makeshift weapon in her hands. “Lighting the house on fire is last resort.”

Dustin and Jamie followed him and the rest into the living room. Chief Hopper had a reassuringly big gun in his arms. “Hey, get away from the windows!” he barked to the kids who were hanging on the back of the couch to look out the living room windows. There was no room for discussion and they retreated to the back of the room. Jamie tried to push Dustin behind her, but he hung onto her arm to peer over her shoulder. Steve had his bat, Mike had grabbed a candlestick-holder, Nancy ended up with the same rifle as last year and Lucas brandished his wrist-rocket, which was as dangerous as a slingshot could be.

“Can you hear anything?” Dustin hissed and Jamie shook her head.

“No, not y- they’re here.”

As one unit, the group pulled closer. Steve bent in his knees, bat poised, ready to swing. Nancy and Chief both had rifles pressed against their shoulders, waiting for the ball to drop. A large thud had them all turn to the right. Bushes rustled and the monsters screeched, but nothing attacked. Not yet.

A snarl and a wet, organic sound and they all swiveled to the left. Something was wrong. Why weren’t they attacking? More sounds, from the front, a long inhuman growl that ended abruptly. Dead silence. Jamie heard every heartbeat of her group, thudding at different rhythms, every raspy breath, every shifting of position, but she did not hear the Demodogs.

“AAAH!”

A Demodog crashed through the windows and Jamie screamed, closed her eyes and squeezed down on the spray can. A five-feet flame sprung out from the vicinity of the burning candle and followed the trajectory of the attacking Demodog. She was lucky she was in the front or Chief Hopper would have gotten a surprise haircut, from his neck and upwards. Muscle memory had her release the nozzle right away — short bursts or she risked the flame creeping back to the reservoir.

Chief Hopper, at her side, stared down at her. The flame had passed less than a foot from his face. He bit out: “What happened to last resort?”

Jamie said nothing and did not protest when Steve intercepted the spray can to blow out the candle. The Demodog wasn’t moving. Had she killed it? The room filled with the smell of burnt flesh, but she had barely scathed the thick slimy skin of the Demodog. It lay limp on the floor, surrounded by broken glass, with its open petal-like appendages falling open.

Chief Hopper approached with gun raised. Everyone else instinctively stepped closer to look, Jamie too, even though she had returned to clutch at Steve’s arm for support. Her breath caught in her throat when Chief Hopper nudged the body with his boot. In her mind, the head would spring open and swallow his foot whole. Instead, the head rolled back, still unmoving. It looked dead. But what killed it?

They were all so on edge that the creaking of the door made them all spin around, weapons up once more. It could have been the wind, had it not been for the lock clicking open on its own accord. Jamie, now defenseless, wrapped her arm around Dustin and held him close. Chief was up front and it could only have been years of experience that had him keep his finger off the trigger. The door chain also slid open, before the door itself opened slowly.

Jamie let out a sob of relief and felt Dustin slump his shoulders in her arms. Chief Hopper lowered his gun.

She was older, dressed differently, and had heavy make-up around her eyes, but there was no doubt. Eleven.

* * *

There were hugs, crying and a newfound hope coupled with Eleven’s return. Jamie collapsed into the couch alongside Steve and Max, the three who had had the least to do with Eleven last year. Max was scowling, ears still burning after the blatant rejection from the other girl to even acknowledge her existence. Jamie’s head was still reeling after everything. Eleven had hugged her, in the same way she hugged Nancy and Jonathan, but had then dropped to her knees in front of Jamie.

Jamie visibly recoiled when the young girl touched her left shin through her jeans. Eleven’s unreadable face had peered up at her. “Pain.”

Without saying much else, Jamie nodded rapidly, tears springing free. “Yeah. Pain.”

Eleven nodded solemnly. Who knew what kind of knowledge existed in that head of hers? She had gone with Joyce now, to see Will, and Jamie was secretly glad of the reprieve from that all-knowing gaze. She wasn’t in pain. The leg was healed up long ago, only scars remaining, but both she and Eleven knew that had not been the kind of pain she meant. Not physical pain, but...another kind of pain.

“You okay?” Steve murmured to her. He sat in the middle between her and Max, not the ideal circumstances for a private conversation.

“I don’t even know anymore,” Jamie mumbled and looked at her hands that laid in her lap. She spent so much energy trying not to think about her leg, or how it happened and how close she had been for it to happen again, and then this girl waltz in and just ripped the whole Pandora’s box open in one go.

The dead Demodog laid unmoving and forgotten on the floor. Forgotten by everyone but Dustin, who was using a wooden spoon to lift at the petal-jaws to study it up close. He revealed the hundreds of teeth spread all over the jaw, each with their own individual muscle to bite and tear at the skin. Teeth and darkness. It was all-

“Hey, Dustin!” Steve called and both Hendersons jumped. Steve waved his palm horizontally across his throat. ‘Cut it out.’

Dustin looked at Jamie and backed away from the Demodog in a heartbeat.

Jamie started breathing again. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Jamie caught Max looking at her leg. The young girl at least had the decency to look away shamefully, but Jamie still wanted to cover herself up even more. Sometimes, she had dreams where the scars would suddenly start bleeding again, seeping to the fabric of her pants, spreading first in a pretty zig-zag pattern before it blended into one big bloody mess. Those were the worst dreams, where the border between reality and dream was blurred and she had to convince herself she wasn’t bleeding when she finally woke up.

Eleven and Joyce emerged from Will’s bedroom and Eleven said: “I can close the gate.”

There were issues. Plenty of them. The lab was taken over by a horde of those Demodogs, which Jamie agreed was a much better name than just referring to them as ‘those dog’, but she didn’t raise the issue when Chief Hopper wanted to know the importance of it. Then there was the matter of Will. According to Mike, he was likely to die if they closed the gate.

Unless they evicted the Mindflayer from Casa William first. It was a plan. Hopper and Eleven would go to the lab to close the gate, Jonathan and Joyce would take Will to some secret cabin that Hopper knew of and tried to fry the Mindflayer out of Will. She, Nancy and Steve would stay where they were, taking care of the kids.

The so-called kids argued that this was bullshit, and especially Mike wanted to go with Eleven and Hopper.

“Out of the question, kid,” was Hopper’s only response to that, not even looking up from assembling a shotgun he had retrieved from the back of his patrol car. Steve and Nancy went out to the shed to search through the wreckage for any more heaters. They brought them back to Jamie, who tinkered with them to increase their effect to full range. It would cause them to eventually overheat, but they should be good for a couple of hours at least.

Nancy had a thoughtful expression, appearing to watch Jamie fiddle with some wires, but was in reality just staring out into thin air. Jamie politely pretended like she hadn’t heard the conversation when they went out back, when Steve told Nancy to go with Jonathan and that he and Jamie were more than capable looking out for the kids. Every so often, Jamie caught Nancy staring at Jonathan.

“Jesus Christ, just go with him,” Jamie muttered and screwed the protective lid back on the heater oven. She placed it in Nancy’s unresisting hands. “This one’s done.”

“Are you gonna be okay here?” Nancy held the heater like a shield between them. “I — uh — I suppose being in this house brings it all back again.”

Back to teeth and darkness and blood and torn flesh. Jamie shook her head, releasing the bad memories. She wished Nancy could do the same. “We’ll be fine, Nance. We just gotta make sure our brothers don’t do anything stupid.”

Nancy smiled thinly. “Hardest job of all.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep Mike safe.”

Nancy nodded and had that strange expression on her face, like Jamie was speaking a language that she recognized, but couldn’t understand. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I mean, really better. It’s good to have you back.”

They hugged, quickly and tightly, wishing each other luck.

Before long, both cars pulled out of the dark driveway and disappeared down the long stretch of road through Mirkwood. Steve watched until the lights disappeared from sight, before he turned and clapped his hands together. “All right, you little shits. Let’s get this place cleaned up.”

Groans ensued. Steve apparently had a philosophy of idle hands being the Devil’s workshop and put them all to work. The house was a mess, but they started in the living room. At Dustin’s insistence, and Jamie’s protests, they placed the dead Demodog in Joyce’s fridge. In the name of science, said Dustin, and Jamie wondered how much more Joyce’s frayed nerves could handle if they forgot to tell her it was there when this was over.

Jamie was picking up large glass shards from the floor, when Dustin tried to hiss at her. With his lisp, it came out more like: “Pfft!” than “Psst!” He was kneeling by the bookcase and held up a large lexicon-like tome. ‘A-Z Psychopharmacology’. She had to read the title three times before she realized what it was. A lexicon for drugs.

Dustin jerked his head in the direction of Will’s room, but played it cool when Max gave them a weird look. At least he tried to play it cool, like he was just trying to get his bangs out of his face. Jamie rolled her eyes, but followed her little brother when Max looked away.

“Now we can find out what kind of drugs you were on,” Dustin hissed excitedly before Jamie even had time to shut the door. She flinched and looked over her shoulder, but no-one had followed them.

“Yeah, we could have, but I only know its name, I can’t remember what the active ingredient was,” Jamie muttered.

“Try!” Dustin said, already flipping the huge book open to check for entries under ‘S’.

Jamie closed her eyes and tried to think back to her latest session with Doc Owens. It was like trying to remember a long-forgotten dream. “Uhh...four syllables. Ending in -ine.” Jamie shrugged excessively when her brother gave her a deadpanned stare. “I didn’t know there was going to be a test! It sounded like... ni-ni-ni-nine.”

Dustin stuttered, but recovered with some effort. “Okay, okay, so, second’s letter probably an ‘i’ or an ‘y’?”

“There’s got to be at least a thousand entries in that book.” Jamie had no idea why Joyce had that book in the first place. She worked at a convenience store. Maybe she had taken a class or something to be allowed to handle prescriptions? There was no way of knowing.

“If the second’s letter’s an ‘i’, then the first one is probably a consonant, right? Right?” Dustin hadn’t given up. He started at ‘B’ and his finger flew down each page, looking for any of the longer words. “Cimetidine? Dicyclomine? Didanosine?”

“No, no, it had a- a- a harder sound. Like a ‘p’ or a ‘t’. Pi-ni-ni-nine or Ti-ni-ni-nine.”

“Super-helpful, Jamie,” Dustin mumbled, still going through the lists. He worked fast, before the others wondered what had happened to them. He went through all drugs starting with P, Jamie shaking her head at each one, and started on the T’s.

“Thiamine. Tiagabine. Tianeptine. Ticoclidine. Tizanidine.”

“Wait, wait, wait, go back, go back.”

“Ticocli-”

“No, the other one.”

“Tianeptine?” Dustin asked and Jamie had him repeat it.

“Yes!” She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “Yes! That’s it! Tianeptine!”

“Okay!” Dustin said excitedly and propped the book so they could both read. “Tianeptine, tricyclic antidepressant. Used to treat major depressive disorder or extreme anxiety. Acts as an atypical agonist of the μ-opioid receptor with- okay, that’s not helpful. Uh...It is known as a super-suppressant and its use is controversial in US Medical Science. Typical side-effects include: personality changes, fatigue, headaches, flatulence-”

Jamie rolled her eyes at Dustin’s immature grin.

“-and drowsiness. Dude. It says right here! Super-suppressant! The doctors knew you could develop powers, they had to!”

“The doctor told Chief Hopper to keep tabs on me.” Jamie had to sit down, suddenly out of breath. “This means we have to be careful, Dustin! You can’t tell anyone about this. Not even mom!”

“Fine fine! To be clear, I can tell Mike and-”

“No! Not Mike, not Lucas, certainly not Max and-” Jamie froze and held her hand up to make Dustin stay quiet. “Car.”

Dustin rushed to the window to look out. “Maybe Mrs. Byers or Hopper forgot something?”

“It’s not their car.” Jamie dropped the medical lexicon and rushed out into the hall. The rest of the gang was huddled together and Steve gave a bitter exclamation when he saw her.

“Ah, Jamie, please help me convince these little shitheads that we are under no circumstances going into these weird tunnels to try and lure the Demodogs away from the- hey, Jamie!”

“Someone’s coming.” She peered out the window, quickly joined by all the kids, and now the headlights were visible. The engine revved loudly and she knew that sound.

“It’s my brother,” whispered Max from beside her. “He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me.” She turned to Lucas. “He’ll kill us.”

“Or he’ll get himself killed,” Jamie said as the car skidded into the spot next to the late Bob Newby’s car. Angry rock music blared from the insides of the car before it was shut off when Billy killed the engine. “This whole area could still be crawling with Demodogs.”

“All right, all right,” Steve said and handed the bat to Dustin along with a towel he had been using to clean. “Stay here, I’ll handle this.”

“Handle this how exactly?” Jamie asked and followed Steve to the hallway. “Maybe if we just don’t answer the door, he’ll go away.”

“Look.” Steve paused by the front door to give her what she thought was a bit over-the-top patronizing look. “I know guys like Hargrove, okay? They’re bullies and bullies are all talk. They back of the second someone stands up to them. Don’t worry.”

“Maybe Jamie should go instead.” Dustin appeared in the hallway, followed closely by the others.

“What, why?” Jamie asked with her lip curled. She had argued that no-one talk to him, not that she had to go out there instead.

“That could work,” Max agreed. “She’s a girl and Billy usually forgets I exist if there’s a girl to impress.” She gave Jamie a once-over. “Uh, maybe pull down your shirt a little or do something with your hair.”

Jamie made a face and gave Max the finger. “I don’t wanna go out there. Demodogs, remember?”

“You’ll hear them coming a mile off,” Dustin argued and started to physically push her out the door. “Come on, this’ll work, he gave you that ride and all. He obviously doesn’t hate you.”

This was news to Max. “Wait, Billy did? When?”

“That has nothing to do with anything, I basically had to- hey, hey!” Jamie swatted at Dustin’s hands who were busy trying to push her out the doorway. She stooped to glare at her brother and his dumbass friends. “Fine! But you little assholes better hide.”

“If he tries anything, I’ll be right here,” Steve said, though he looked less than convinced at this plan. Not that Jamie was feeling more confident, but at least she didn’t have any illusions of Billy being the kind to back off if met with opposition. Remembering Max’ words, she looked down at herself and scowling, without saying a word, she wrenched off her sweatshirt so she was only in an old faded t-shirt with the tattered remains of an MTV-logo.

“Not - a -word,” she grumbled to Steve and darted out the door before Billy could hear them talking through the wall.

Billy hadn’t been rushing to knock on the Byers’ door and was in the midst of lighting a cigarette when Jamie stepped outside. He wore an acid-washed leather jacket over a dark-red shirt that he had managed to button perhaps the two lower buttons on. That left his chest exposed and free to ogle at, and Jamie was glad the lighting was so poor outside.

“Now this is an unexpected surprise,” Billy said and blew cigarette smoke out his mouth. Jamie was freezing without her sweatshirt, and crossed her arms over her chest for both warmth and protection. “What are you doing here, Madge? I thought this was the Byers’ house. Ah, right...Jonathan, was that his name?” Billy’s smirk grew and it was like he could smell her blush rising, because he obviously couldn’t see it. “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“You did, actually,” Jamie said curtly and took a few steps off the porch, mostly to show she wasn’t intimidated by the Californian, even though she clearly was. “It would be nice if you could leave.”

Billy sat down on the bumper of his car and let his gaze trail lecherously up and down her body. There had been no need to pull down her shirt, Billy was more than happy to let his imagination fill in any blanks. “Now, you see, I would — not one to come in the way of true teenage romance — but I’m looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.”

There was no time to wonder who this little birdie could be. No-one had any idea of knowing that Max would be here. Jamie tried to keep a straight face as she asked: “What stepsister?”

“Small? Redhead? A bit of a bitch?” Billy used his hand to indicate Max’ approximate height.

“Sorry, don’t know her.”

“You’re a bad liar, Madge.”

“My name is Jamie,” she said to change the topic. She stood her ground, even when every instinct in her body told her to run, as Billy got up from his car and stepped closer to her. Cigarette smoke wafted in her face as he exhaled.

“Jamie,” he repeated and the sound of her name rolling of his tongue was strange and exhilirating all at once. The glint in his eyes was back. A primal instinct told Jamie that this guy’s focus was a dangerous place to be. “Short for...?”

“For Jamie.” He had tried to sidestep her and she blocked his path. “You don’t have any business here. Please leave.”

“I’ll leave,” Billy said and now the glint was replaced with something cold and hard. He got up in her face. “With my stepsister.”

The door opened behind Jamie and she cursed inwardly. Billy broke off the stare first and smiled. “Am I dreaming, Harrington, or is that you?”

Jamie didn’t turn to look at Steve, not trusting Billy enough to let him out of her sight.

“Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants.”

“Now,” said Billy and returned his focus to Jamie, like he was seeing her in new light. “And here I thought it was Steve who was stringing two girls along at the same time. Kinky, Madge.”

“Back off, Hargrove,” Steve said and took Jamie’ place in front of Billy. “You need to leave.”

“As I said,” Billy was talking to Steve, but looking at Jamie. “I’m looking for my stepsister.”

Steve replied without hesitation: “She’s not here.”

“Oh, really?” Billy asked and then nodded towards the house behind them. “Then who’s that?”

Jamie could kill those little assholes. She and Steve both turned, just in time to see the tops of the kids’ heads disappear from the window. Steve cursed under his breath and turned back: “Listen-”

Billy shoved Steve, knocking him off his feet and to the ground. “I told you to plant your feet!”

“Steve!” Jamie had cried out, but Steve was okay, much unlike the kids would be if Billy got to them. She rushed after the mullet-haired guy, who had wrenched off his jacket on his way inside the house. “Hey! Hey, hey, hey!”

She reached the door just as he did and slammed her whole body against it to shut it. “You’re trespassing! Get out of here or I’ll call the police!”

“Hiding a 13-year-old runaway? That’s kidnapping, baby,” Billy said and yanked the door open. Superstrength or not, her bodyweight remained unchanged and she skidded across the porch. She glanced at Steve, but he was still groaning and picking himself up, leaving Jamie swearing and following Billy Hargrove inside the house.

Instead of targeting Max, Billy went straight for Lucas. Billy had at least fifty pounds on muscle on Lucas and he lifted the younger boy like he was made of cardboard. He wasn’t though, he was made of flesh and bones and easily breakable things and he was thrown against the wall with a painful thud.

“Are you insane?” yelled Jamie and rushed to break Billy’s hold on the boy. “He’s - just - a -kid!”

“A kid who’s going to stay away from her!” Billy roared into Lucas’ face. His arms were solid as rock and Jamie couldn’t manage to break the grip. Billy shook Lucas, hitting him against the wall over and over again. “You stay away from her, you hear me?”

“LET HIM GO!” Jamie shouted and gripped the pressure point on Billy’s hand and squeezed. It was a good trick, her cousin had taught her that, and Billy howled. He lost his grip on Lucas’ collar, but only long enough to shove Jamie sharply into the floor like she weighed nothing at all. Her head thumped against the dresser, a penetrating bolt of pain splitting her brain. “Ugh!”

“I said _get off me_!” Lucas yelled and used the temporary lapse of attention on him to force his knee up in Billy’s crotch. Billy grunted and dropped Lucas.

Billy was crouched over, but Lucas hadn’t used enough force. There was plenty of fight left in Billy. He growled: “So dead, Sinclair. You’re so dead!”

Steve tapped Billy on his shoulder. “No, you are.”

It was a good punch. Steve rotated all the way from his hips and planted his clenched fist right in Billy’s nose. Billy sailed backwards, but he was _laughing_ hysterically.

“WHOO!” he shrieked and straightened up to face Steve. “Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh! I’ve been waiting to meet this _King Steve_ everyone’s been telling me so much about.”

Both Billy and Steve had their fists up, but there was a confidence in Billy’s stance that Steve lacked. The difference was small, but evident, as Billy centered his weight further down, planting his feet to give him stability. On top of that, Billy _wanted_ a fight. Steve didn’t.

Steve dropped his fists, thinking it was over. He pushed Billy back to keep him at arm’s length. “Get out.”

“Steve watch out!” Jamie cried just as Billy dipped his shoulder, a giveaway of the suckerpunch he sent Steve’s way. Steve ducked, leaving Billy going in a wide circle, and popped up again to land another jab in Billy’s face.

The kids were all shouting, egging on Steve to kick his ass, all except Max who had gone white. Max, who had seen her stepbrother fight before. Max, who knew the damage a Hargrove could do with his hands.

Jamie got off the floor and tried to break them apart.“Guys, stop it!” She had this vague idea that if she got between them, they would stop, too afraid of hitting her. “Guys!”

Billy, an apparent believer in equality of the sexes, shook her off his arm and sent a sharp elbow to her face. Her eyes watered.and she swore and sputtered blindly. Only instinct made her realize that Dustin had released a primal warcry and flung himself at Billy.

“Don’t you touch her!” he shrieked and punched Billy wherever he could reach him with his pudgy balled fists.

Billy laughed and blocked the punches by holding Dustin away from him by his throat. “Let me guess, the little brother?” He looked at Jamie who was still trying to get up from his last jab. “What were you gonna do if I touched him? Oh yeah, break my face.” Billy punched Dustin in the mouth.

Jamie saw red as Dustin sagged like a sack of flour. She launched herself at Billy, not trying to hit him, but tackled him at his waist so they both crashed to the floor. She didn’t know how to fight, not a fistfight, but she had enough cousins that she could hold her own in wrestling and she and Billy struggled for the upper-hand, writhing on the floor, a complicated mass of limbs and fury.

She landed hits where she could, elbows, knees and heels hitting soft spots on his body. Sometimes she hit, sometimes she didn’t. Jamie shrieked of frustration, especially when she realized he wasn’t actively trying to fight back, only ward off her blows. He took advantage of a knee she tried to send to his head, and flipped her hard onto her back, so he was on top. With his bottom arm, he leaned over her throat, choking her, all the while whispering: “Give up yet? Give up yet?”

Jamie clawed at his arm, eyes watering, lungs screaming for air.

“Hey, dickhead!”

Steve forced Billy’s head around to land another good blow to his face. Jamie used the opportunity to plant both feet into Billy’s chest and _pushed!_ He flew off her, hit the far wall in the living room, and landed in a heap. He did not stay down.

Jamie croaked and groaned, head reeling from the cut-off supply of oxygen returning full-force, and the shapes of Billy and Steve blurred. Billy kicked Steve in the stomach and the next thing she knew, Billy sat ontop of Steve’s chest and punched and punched and punched, not stopping even as Steve’s head lolled to the side without resistance.

“You’re killing him!” she cried and sprawled on the floor. Up, she had to get up!

Halfway to standing, leg slipping from beneath her, she saw Max came out of nowhere. Max stabbed Billy in the neck with the syringe they used to sedate Will. At last, he stopped punching. Somehow, he rose to standing, touching his neck, grunting at Max.

“The Hell is this? You little shit, what did you do?” His speech slurred, finally, Jamie had worried not even the sedative could stop him. He’d taken absolutely everything else they had thrown at him. As a tall guy, Billy had a long way down, and he fell straight onto his back, a few feet away from where Jamie was still trying to get up and next to Steve who was still not moving.

Billy laughed, moving his arms like it was funny when they just flopped down again. The sedative had been for Will. Maybe there wasn’t enough in the needle to knock out Billy? Max had considered the same thing, apparently, as she stalked over to retrieve the spiked baseball bat.

“From here on out,” she said and stood over Billy, bat raised, “you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?”

“Screw you,” moaned Billy, not able to lift his head.

Max gritted her teeth and swung the bat down so it embedded into the floor between Billy’s legs. That got his attention, and Max wrenched the bat out of the woodwork and raised it again. “Say you understand! SAY IT!”

“I understand.”

“What?”

“I understand,” Billy murmured again and fell still. He was out.

Everyone struggled to catch their breath and Max let the heavy bat clatter to the floor. Jamie coughed and rubbed her throat from where Billy’s arm had nearly crushed her escophagus. She clambered over to Dustin, who was awake, but disoriented.

“Dustin! Are you okay?” she asked and tried to move his arms so she could get a better look at his face. Nothing broken, just a split lip that would probably swell to about three times its regular size.

“You shouldn’t hit girls,” slurred Dustin and Jamie was torn between kissing him and killing him.

“That’s right, you little shit, but you shouldn’t hit people twice your size either,” she said, hugged him and then smacked his head. “Are you out of your mind? He could’ve killed you!”

“Shouldn’t hit girls,” Dustin repeated and Jamie figured he was still not completely up to speed yet. Still, he was better off than Steve, who lay unconscious on the floor next to Billy.

“Is he breathing?” Lucas asked after Jamie had knelt down to check on him. He was, but his face looked like a mashed up beefcake. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and he had the same split lip like Dustin had.

“Steve? Steve, wake up!” she said and tried to shake him without hurting him. Steve mumbled something incoherently, but didn’t stir. “Shit!” She looked at Billy, also out cold, hardly a scratch on him. “Shit!”

“Uh, are _you_ okay?” It was Max, standing by her side. “I mean - uh - there’s blood in your hair.”

“Shit!” Jamie said again and touched the back of her scalp with her fingers, probing between the locks to find a wound or a crack. Her hair was wet, with blood, as her fingertips came back red. No wound that she could find though. “Probably just a scrape.”

“Are you okay to drive?” asked Mike as Max bent down to fish Billy’s car keys out of his pocket.

For a second, she thought they meant the hospital, to admit Billy and Steve, but of course her little brother’s asshole friends didn’t have anything as cozy as that in mind.

“She doesn’t know how to drive.” Dustin was apparently recovering quickly and returning to his little shit-status. “Ow! What? It’s true!”

She couldn’t handle the kids’ disappointed stares at her. “I was in a coma when I was supposed to have driver’s ed.” No reaction. “I’m on heavy meds!”

“That’s okay,” Max said and pocketed the keys for herself. “I can drive.”


	8. Chapter 8

How had she ended up here? How had those little shits convinced her this was a good idea? How had she ended up _helping_ them find supplies and then agree to come with them? How and how and how?

“Take a left at the next intersection.”

Max was, unfortunately, a better driver at the age of thirteen than Jamie had ever been. It was indeed a strange night, when the _least_ of her worries was having the young teenager drive a sportscar in the middle of the night. One of the bigger problems laid in her lap, still out cold.

The car wasn’t build for mass-transport, so the only way they had been able to fit all of them was by having her, Dustin and Mike sit in the backseat with Steve draped over them. At least she got the head, instead of Mike who struggled to place Steve’s feet in a way that didn’t hit him in the face whenever Max hit a speed bump too hard, which she did frequently.

The next problem was their destination. Mike had this wonderful idea of distracting the Demodogs by setting some of the vines, that were somehow part of Will, on fire. It meant three things: they had to enter the creepy tunnels filled with spore-spouting flowers that would knock them unconscious if they breathed it in, then they had to douse the place with gasoline and light it up while they were still down there, and _then_ they had survive the Demodogs that they were actively trying to attract to their location. Jamie knew her pyronetics well, it was not without reason that the local PD had her name on file, but it was still a risky plan.

Third problem — or was it fourth? — lay in the trunk. Still out cold, as she’d been sure they would hear him trashing about when he woke up. While the guys didn’t see the issue in him potentially being devoured by roving Demodogs, Max and Jamie had agreed they couldn’t just leave him at the Byers. They had tied him up as best they could and Jamie somehow managed to wrangle him into the trunk. It was, again, not a car meant for mass-transport and he was folded awkwardly into fetal position to make him fit.

Steve groaned from her lap. His one good eye blinked open, but slid shut again.

“Is he waking up?” asked Dustin excitedly, and leaned over Steve to look in his face. At least her brother had better bedside manners than her, as his voice was soft and calm: “Hey, buddy. Shh shh shh. It's okay.”

Steve stared wildly at her, her brother, Mike. He began flailing like a stranded fish, and Dustin kept shushing and calming him down. “You put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but you put up a fight. You’re okay. He’s in the trunk, he can’t hurt you.”

“Oh no,” whispered Jamie as Steve had caught sight of the driver. She let Dustin do the talking, but worked with Mike to keep Steve lay still.

“Oh my God, oh my God!” Steve said over and over again. He looked straight at Jamie. “Why is _she_ driving?!”

“Don’t worry, she’s driven before,” said Dustin, which in no way made Steve worry less. “And Jamie can’t drive because she was in a coma and now she’s on meds. It’s fine.”

“Whaaat?” asked Steve, not processing the slightest. “Wait, who’s in the trunk?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jamie said and tried to imitate her brother’s soothing tone. “Just relax. It’s gonna be fine.”

Steve’s head slumped back into her lap. She had been petting his hair, like he was Mews, and continued when it seemed to help him stay calm. Every once in a while, when Max hit a pothole, he whispered: “Oh my God.”

Somehow, they made it to the field where Chief Hopper had entered the tunnels earlier, despite Max’ sharp turns that she must have learned from her step-brother. All six of them piled out of the car designed to carry four, Steve leaning on the hood to catch his breath. He wasn’t agreeing with the plan, but no one was paying him any attention. Jamie and Max stood by the trunk, weighing their options.

“In or out?” Jamie asked with one hand on the handle.

Max hesitated. “He’s safer inside.”

“He won’t suffocate?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“How about if we put him in the backseat?”

“What if he wakes up?”

“He’s tied up, isn’t he? Take the keys with you, maybe.”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” said Max and Jamie popped the trunk. Steve happened to look inside and dissolved into another fit when he saw the tied-up and unconscious Billy Hargrove squeezed into the small compartment. Jamie wished she had longer arms, but somehow got one arm under his knees and the other under his back.

“Door!” she said to Max, who dutifully opened the passenger-side door and helped tip Billy’s body inside. He was heavy, all muscles, but not so heavy Jamie couldn’t lift him. When she turned, Dustin gave her two thumbs up and a grin only enhanced by his swollen lip. She rolled her eyes. If they survived this, she was sure there would be extensive tests.

With Billy out of the way, they suited up, ignoring all protests spewing out of Steve’s mouth.

“Jamie! How are you agreeing to this?! We’re supposed to keep them safe!”

“They won’t be safe if El doesn’t make it,” Jamie explained and tied her hair back to make it easier to put on the mask. Her voice went nasal when the mask covered her nose. “Even if we just buy her a few seconds, it could be worth it.”

Steve threw his hands out. “How can you be this calm about going down there with those- those- Demodogs?”

Jamie swung back so Steve had to dodge the baseball bat she had over her shoulder. “I’m not, Steve! I’m not calm! I’m piss-my-pants-and-pass-out scared right now and I have been since Dart turned out to be a baby Demogorgon!” She wrenched the mask off again to wipe angrily at her eyes. “I’m terrified! And I was terrified the last time, and last time I almost died, and I would still go back and do it all over again _because what else are we supposed to do?!”_

The kids were carefully avoiding looking at the pair. Jamie shoved a mask and the bat into Steve’s hands.

“Suit up or shut up, Harrington! These little shits won’t make it without us!”

A few minutes later, they dropped into the tunnels. With handkerchiefs to cover their mouths and diver’s masks in front of their eyes and nose, they should be safe enough from the spores that hung in the air like gravity-defying snowflakes. Steve insisted on taking the lead. He had both hands on his bat, the only one not carrying a gasoline can.

Dustin, Lucas and Mike had spent a few minutes before they left to draw out a miniature-version of Will’s map over the tunnels. Now Steve tried to make sense of it all, to lead them to this so-called hub, where Mike thought they could hurt the Mindflayer the most. Jamie grimaced at every step. The vines that covered every inch of the tunnels were soft and squishy, and they looked to be moving when she saw them in the corner of her eye. They stopped as soon as she turned to get a good look.

“Can you hear anything?” Dustin asked from beside her and Jamie nearly pissed her pants.

She shoved him ahead of her and took up the rear. “No. Now shush.”

It was quiet down here. The only sound was of their footsteps and labored breathing. They all carried flashlights, and the beams of light swept around them, revealing the empty shadows one after another. Jamie touched her throat underneath the handkerchief. It had stopped hurting. Even when she prodded it, it wasn’t sore to the touch like a bruise would be. So either Billy had been gentle with her, somehow only inflicting instant pain instead of prolonging it into next week, or something more was up with her body that she wasn’t sure about.

Of all the stupid superpowers in the world, enhanced hearing and _mild_ superstrength (because she wasn’t able to lift, like, a car or something) were probably the stupidest. They weren’t useful like El’s. They were just...annoying. She’d rather not have superhearing and have her life go completely back to normal. But there was no normal, not anymore. And she didn’t think there ever would be.

“All right, Wheeler,” Steve said as they entered a larger chamber in the maze. The trek had been uneventful, apart from a small scare where Dustin almost gave Jamie a heart attack. “I think we found your hub.”

“Remember, flame wants to go upwards.” Jamie held her weed-sprayer downwards, dousing the knee-level vines in gasoline. “Keep your stream pointing down, physics are gonna handle the rest.” The others were following her lead and tried to thoroughly soak the bone riddled ground. “Try to keep your nozzle close to its target, gasoline evaporates in the air.”

“You’re full of surprises, Henderson.” Steve swung his bat lazily from his position by the cave entrance where he kept watch. “Who knew you were a pyro in disguise?”

“Dude, trust me, she can turn any super-soaker into a 20-yard range flamethrower,” Dustin said in the same tone of voice a mother declares her son has won the Nobel prize. “We had a whole arsenal until Chief Hopper confiscated them, which is such bullshit, because flamethrowers aren’t illegal in Indiana.”

“We burnt down the neighbor’s garage, Dustin.” Jamie had been Dustin’s age back then and stupidly allowed her little brother to try the homemade flamethrower. “That’s kinda illegal.”

“We didn’t do it on purpose!” Dustin exclaimed as if that should make them exempt from common law.

“All right, I’m out!” Jamie exclaimed after shaking her can and finding it empty. The others soon announced the same and they retreated back to where they had come, standing behind Steve who finally was going to find use for his Zippo-lighter.

“Ready?” Steve asked and did a headcount to make sure they were all present.

Dustin nodded and adjusted his handkerchief. “Light her up!”

Steve looked at Jamie, as if she was a voice of reason in this group, and she just nodded. He nodded back and muttered: “I am in such deep shit.”

With a throw a basketball-player could be proud of, the lighter sailed in slow motion down to the gasoline-covered ground. The place lit up like dry leaves and the heat hit their faces like a jackhammer. All of them raised their hands to shield their exposed skin from the intense fire.

“We gotta go!” Jamie yelled after watching the vines write and squeal pitifully as they burned. This place was alive and now it was angry. They ran, but it was harder now, as if the ground was trying to trip them over. Mike did and immediately a branch coiled itself around his leg, like an Amazonian boa that squeezed its victims to death.

Jamie grabbed his torso and yanked the younger Wheeler loose after Steve hacked the vine-like appendix off. She and Steve took one arm each and dragged him along until he found his footing.

“LEFT! LEFT!” Steve shouted to the trio up ahead. They had to go back out the way they come in, they would die if they were trapped in here. Everyone took the left tunnel and kept going. Jamie nearly tumbled over Dustin when he’d stopped dead in his tracks and the hair on her arms rose at the low growl.

“Dart,” said Dustin slowly and tried to hold the others back so they wouldn’t crash right into the Demodog. Jamie wanted to strangle her brother, but was frozen in place, because the Demodog hadn’t attacked yet. The pattern on its rear matched with the one tiny Dart had exhibited, so this might just be the very baby Demogorgon Dustin had adopted.

Her brother swatted off any hands trying to hold him back and asked them to: “Just trust me, okay?”

“I swear if you die I will kill you,” Jamie muttered and settled for holding Lucas and Max close to her instead, in lieu of Dustin. He was actually going to feed it nougat, she thought. Her actual brother was going to actually feed the actual Demodog some actual goddamn nougat! And it worked! How had that worked!

The Demodog - Dart - smacked its lips, if you could call them that, and slurped happily at the pieces of 3 Musketeers Dustin had left him, while he gestured for the others to move past while he was still eating. Jamie grabbed the back of Dustin’s hoodie and dragged him along with her, just in case he was going to do anything stupid again.

They were getting close to the exit, they had to be. Problem was, so were the Demodogs. The tunnels echoed with screeches and growls, distorting the noise, making it impossible to pinpoint how close they were or where they were coming for.

“There!” Max said and pointed to the ceiling. Weak, blue moonlight streamed down to highlight the rope they had tied to the Camaro. Steve and Jamie rushed up and began lifting the kids up. Max went first, squeezing her legs around the rope and inching her way upwards until she reached the grass-tufts outside. Her squirming legs suddenly disappeared from the hole and she was up.

“Lucas, come on!” Jamie said and they sent Lucas the same way. He was taller, and managed to gain hold on the ground outside right away. He disappeared from sight and Jamie figured Max had helped him get up the last few feet. “Mike, come on!”

A new round of shrieks permeated the tunnels. They were coming.

“COME ON!” Steve roared and the second Mike was up, he bent and lifted her bodily at the legs.

“No, wait, Dustin first!” she cried, but was already halfway up the hole when hands grabbed at her t-shirt and belt and heaved her up and onto the ground with surprising strength for a bunch of middle-schoolers. She landed on her back, the constant darkness now replaced with the starry sky, and flipped onto her stomach to reach down into the hole.

“Dustin!” she said and could see the top of Dustin’s hat beneath her. He and Steve weren’t moving, but were frozen solid, staring at the tunnel ahead. Her fingers flexed around air and she leaned further down.“DUSTIN!”

The kids grabbed hold of her belt again, to keep her from sliding back down, and she was inches away from Dustin’s head when the Demodogs came. Steve tried to swing at them, but there were too many. Unable to breathe, she could only watch the Demodogs bound past Steve and Dustin, going around them, not attacking.

The growls faded in the distance and Jamie sobbed in fear and panic and relief. Dustin finally reached for her hand and with the aid of the kids, she pulled him out of the hole and onto solid ground again. Without getting up, she tackled him in a bearhug, squeezing until she felt his ribcage groan and even then only letting go so he could breathe. He mumbled something that sounded like ‘Steve’ and Jamie remembered he was still down the hole

She let go off Dustin to help the kids get Steve up, but he was already halfway up, using both arms to push himself out of the hole, glaring at...

Glaring at Billy Hargrove who was pulling him out by the neck of his shirt. Max, Lucas and Mike all sat panting around the hole, unsure where to look. It was obvious Billy had been the one to pull them out of the tunnels, like he had done with Jamie and Dustin and now Steve.

When Steve was up, he jerked violently to release Billy’s hold on him and threw himself backwards to achieve maximal distance between them. He was up right away, walking without direction into the field and running his hands through his hair. The rope that had been used to tie up Billy lay discarded by the car door. Jamie made a mental note to go through some better knots with Mike and Lucas, who had been in charge of that task.

Billy said nothing, just met Jamie’s wild stare evenly. No fire in his eyes, no smile on his lip, just something soft and almost...vulnerable? Sorry? It was a good chance he was still affected by the sedative. He glanced briefly at Dustin, but didn’t say anything. Billy just brushed off his jeans and got up from the ground.

“Is everyone okay?” she asked with a shaky voice. All nodded, except Steve who was still ways off and Billy who was making a big show of checking out his car. Jamie nodded and flopped down on her back, not caring about the cold soil seeping in through her jeans and t-shirt. She jerked back up at the sound of roaring, echoing through the night.

“What the hell is that?” Billy asked hoarsely, as expected after being sedated and stuffed in the trunk of his own car.

Mike visibly paled when he realized the roars were coming from Hawkins Lab. “Eleven.”

Billy looked at the boy in confusion. “What?”

No one bothered about him. Lesser evil and all. They rose to their feet and stared in the direction of Hawkins Lab. That had to be where the Demodogs were going. Eleven was closing the gate.

“Fingers crossed,” lisped Dustin and Jamie took his hand and squeezed. They had done what they could.

An electric sensation filled the air, like before a storm, when the electrical charge in the atmosphere changes along with the barometric pressure. It squeezed in on their sinuses and made their hair rise. The headlights of the Camaro suddenly turned on and the light increased so it was painful to look at. All shielded their eyes, from the light and in case the glass would crack. Their flashlights, forgotten on the ground, also burned brightly, shaking from the tremors in the bedrock itself.

The pressure rose and rose along with the intensity of the lights.

Just as it was becoming painful, like your heart was about to stop, the pressure dropped back down. Lights dwindled. The air was normal.

No one said anything. No one wanted to break the silence. Little by little, Jamie felt her shoulders relax and her grip on Dustin loosened. She finally noticed how heavy her arms were, how her legs ached, how she could probably fall asleep standing up if she closed her eyes.

“She did it,” Mike said, quietly, still in a hushed awe. He repeated it, louder, for the world to hear, punching the sky with his tiny fist. “She did it!”

Jamie began to laugh, covered her mouth in embarrassment, and let it drop again. Dustin let out a loud whoop, and Steve laughed too, and so did Max, the kind of laughter that was right between hysterics and happiness, and Max cracked first, her laughing turning into sobs, the adrenaline finally leaving their system, replaced with pure exhausted exhilaration of survival. Max sought solace with Jamie, hugging her around the waist, and Jamie let her, now sobbing herself, but smiling, and they had made it. It was over.

In the middle of this stood Billy Hargrove, watching them like they were insane, and this made Jamie laugh harder — or cry harder, it was difficult to tell.

He finally asked for his car keys back and all seven of them somehow piled into the Camaro. No one questioned his ability to drive, no one had the balls or the energy. Especially not after he had ripped out the cardboard Max had used to reach the pedals, making it apparent that it hadn’t been Steve or Jamie behind the wheel on their trip here.

“Is no one gonna tell me what the hell happened back there?” Billy asked the car in general. No answer. Jamie turned in her front seat where she sat squashed under Max. Dustin sat halfway on Steve’s lap - who was passed out - and halfway on Mike’s lap. Lucas was hard to see, tucked in the corner behind Billy’s seat, but he looked awake and not inclined to tell Billy Hargrove a damn thing.

“The Mindflayer possessed our friend Will and tried to use him to break through a portal to this world, building an army of interdimensional reptile monsters and vines,” Dustin said matter-of-factly and Jamie willed herself to not react, though she felt Max stiffen atop of her. “Then our friend Eleven, who is basically a superhero, closed the gate and killed the Mindflayer’s army.”

“Right,” said Billy and focused on his driving without further comment. He hadn’t believed him. Or thought it was just an elaborate game. It didn’t matter. Not really.

Billy took them all back to the Byers’ house and barked at them to get out, except for Max, who he _was_ taking home now. Max and Jamie both had to move to allow the boys a passage out, Billy sure as hell wasn’t getting up, and Jamie grabbed the girl before she got back in the car.

“Are you gonna be okay?” she asked, without any plan what she would do if Max said no.

Max shrugged, but looked a little smug. She glanced at her step-brother waiting irritably in the car. Irritably, not violently. “I think I’ll be fine.” She looked beyond Jamie, at Lucas in particular, and smiled. “Good bye, guys.”

Billy revved the engine and Max got in. They left in a trail of dust and gravel. The ones left behind trudged to the porch and slumped down. It was so late it was early and Jamie idly wondered what she could possibly tell her mom that would be somewhat believable.

“So, if anyone asks,” said Steve as he came back out, clutching a bag of frozen peas to his face. “We stayed here the whole time and nothing happened.”

“Your face happened,” Jamie and Dustin said in unison. Both grinned.

“Apart from that. No one is going to tell anyone — especially Nancy or Chief Hopper — that we took a tour down in the tunnels and played with gasoline, all right? I said, all right?”

They chorused: “All right.”

Dawn came to the driveway and the world looked just a little more normal.

For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small tweaks can mean big changes...  
> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

The gym at Hawkins Middle sparkled underneath the large disco bowl. Tinsels, glitter, colored lights — it was hard to tell that this was the same room where nerdy kids like Jamie had gotten their asses handed to them in dodgeball. Soft music played on the speakers, all the known hits, and some kids were already trickling in, staring at the opposite sex like it was some new and foreign species. Jamie shuddered.

Somehow, Nancy convinced her to volunteer at the Hawkins Middle annual Snow Ball, a dance to commemorate the end of the semester before winter break. At least Jamie wasn’t the only one suckered into volunteering by Nancy and she grinned over at Jonathan, who was in the middle of setting up his equipment for a photo-stand.

“I got my heart broken by Johnny M at the Snow Ball in 7th grade,” Nancy mused while unboxing solo-cups. “He was my date, but then he ended up dancing the entire night with Cathy from the year below. I cried for like a week.” She looked at the glittering letters hanging in the ceiling that proclaimed that this was indeed, the Snow Ball. “I’m pretty sure that’s the same sign that they used back then.”

“I never attended Snow Ball.” Jamie tried the punch and grimaced. Needed more sugar.

“What? Why not?”

“Because it was just a combination of things I hated: dresses, soppy music and dancing in public.” Jamie shuddered and accidentally added more sugar than planned. “Shit. No boys wanted to dance with me anyway.”

Nancy smiled a secretive little smile. “You mean Steve didn’t want to dance with you.”

“Why am I the only one being judged by my middle school crush?” Jamie asked with a sour face. “You just admitted to going out with Johnny M, who made pictures on his desk using his own mucus.”

“Touche,” Nancy said and spread some tinsel across the punch table. They had spent the whole afternoon decorating, along with the teachers and other parents who were volunteering or chaperoning. Like the kids attending, they had dressed up. Even Jonathan wore a suit. Nancy looked pretty in a purple cocktail dress and Jamie had gotten away with wearing a silky deep blue jumpsuit with a belt. “Steve and Dustin seem to get along well.”

“Like a house on fire,” Jamie answered and tasted the punch. Too sweet. “He’s driving Dustin to the dance. Volunteered to do it and all. Mom was super impressed.”

“Maybe he’s trying to impress you?”

“Huh?”

Nancy just shook her head. “Nothing.” She seemed pleased with the punch table, at least for half a second, before she looked behind her and then underneath the table. “Didn’t we have one more box with cups?”

“Probably at the back of Mr. Clarke’s car,” Jamie said and handed the punch-making equipment to Nancy. More and more kids were coming and she guessed they all wanted punch so they could have something to do with their hands, a feeling she remembered from the Halloween Party. “I keep making it too sweet and then too sour. You do the punch, I’ll get the box.”

Jamie tottered her way to the backdoor, cursing both her mom for convincing her it was a good idea to wear heels and the fashion magazines for making high heels the norm for women. Still, she managed, and found the box in the back of Mr. Clarke’s car. Balancing it on one hip, she shut the car door with her other arm and noticed the deep blue Camaro sitting just on the edge of the parking lot. She hadn’t seen it much the last few months, and rumor had it Billy’d lost his car rights after what happened the weekend after Halloween. Chief Hopper had insisted on paying a visit to the Hargroves after he’d been told what happened at the Byers’. Despite Steve’s insistence nothing happened, there was no use hiding his messed up face.

As if she’d summoned him with her thoughts, Billy Hargrove suddenly appeared next to his car, leaning on its hood and lighting a cigarette. He caught her staring, a good fifty yards of parking lot between them, and gave her a nod. Her face twisted into something between amusement and disgust. As far as she knew, they were not on speaking terms. He might have given them a ride from the field, but he still hit her brother. She used her free hand to give him the finger. Even from where she was standing, she saw him laugh.

Just like she thought, Billy’s presence also meant Max’ arrival. She looked nice with her hair pulled back and Jamie envied her red jeans and striped pullover combo. Mike and Will were also here, all decked out in suits and looking miserable at a table, but Lucas and Dustin were still MIA.

“Can you manage the punch alone for a bit?” Jamie asked Nancy when she delivered the box. “I’m gonna go outside and get some air.”

Nancy shrugged, because there wasn’t even a line yet. “Sure.”

The nights were definitely getting colder now that it was mid-December. It still hadn’t snowed yet though. Winters never really hit Indiana until January, making those postcard white Christmases a bit hit or miss. The sleeves on her jumpsuit only went to her elbows and Jamie rubbed her arms absentmindedly as she tottered her way across the parking lot, all the way to the back.

“Didn’t take you for a chaperone,” she said in a way of greeting the Californian hotshot, who still hadn’t learned to button up his shirt properly. How he could stand being outside in just that flimsy shirt and a denim jacket was beyond her, maybe he was warmblooded from living so close to the desert for so long.

“Madge,” he said and took a long pull from his cigarette. “Fancy seeing you here.” Billy flipped the cigarette in his hand and proffered it to Jamie.

She scoffed. “Do I look like I smoke?”

In one smooth motion, the cigarette was back between Billy’s lips, bobbing as he spoke. “I’m not sure what you look like.” He leaned further back on his car, resting on his elbows. This made new muscles on his chest flex and dance. He gestured to her outfit. “Nice color.”

“Tha-” Jamie saw the glimmer of amusement in his eyes and realized she had inadvertently dressed in the exact same shade of blue as his car. “Huh. You know, I don’t think I would’ve managed that if I tried.”

Billy said nothing, and somehow that was even worse than if he’d made fun of her. He just looked at her, smiling his little smile, sucking on his teeth or doing something else weird with his mouth. Like he and he alone was in on the joke.

“Are you gonna cause any trouble tonight?” She posed the one question that had been on her mind when she came out here. This was a special night for the boys, and the two girls, and she was not going to let him ruin it.

The smile flickered, even for just a split second, but she saw it. “Only if you want me to.” When she said nothing, he rolled his head back and sighed deeply. It was like his own private form of hypnotism, that had to be why he wore his shirts like that, to distract anyone careless enough to look while he moved. “Don’t worry, Madge, Max got me plenty whipped. I’m only a chauffeur tonight, not a chaperone.”

“Good,” Jamie said while hugging herself. He had a tiny knick in his right eyebrow, the only proof of their altercation last month. Time healed all wounds and even Steve’s face had returned back to normal. It was hard to remember how bad it had been, and Jamie found her eyes dragged to Billy’s knuckles, permanently worn and red from countless of altercations like that. Knuckles that had knocked her baby brother out and split his lip.

It had to be hypnotism, she thought, because she had not noticed him moving before it was too late. He snuffed out his cig, took a few steps closer to her and shrugged off his denim jacket. “Cold?”

Before she could answer, Billy swung the jacket across her shoulders. He tugged at the collar, to make the fabric cover her arms as much as it could, and she had to admit that she was a lot warmer. It could have been the jacket,that was still seeped with remains of his body heat, or it could be the burning flush that worked itself up her spine, en route to her face.

Billy’s hands still rested on the opening of the jacket, but she was spared his intense gaze as he looked upwards instead. Jamie followed suit and blinked when a single snowflake landed on her eyelashes. It was the first of several, and tiny white particles began to settle all over the parking lot.

“Now would you look at that,” said Billy with what seemed like genuine joy. It occurred to her that he might not have seen snow before. He laughed that gravelly laugh of his and opened his mouth to catch some of the drizzling snowflakes on his tongue. Inside, a slow and romantic melody played and spilled out of the open front doors onto the parking lot.

Snow piled on top of Billy’s mullet, weighing down the curls and counteracting all the hairspray he had probably used on it. She wondered if Billy also used the Farrah Fawcett-spray, the same kind Dustin had guilted her into buying for him. Speaking of which, she hadn’t seen him arrive yet. Had Steve forgotten to pick him up?

“If you’re looking for your boyfriend,” Billy said slowly, causing her to stop scanning the parking lot for the familiar red BMW. Billy’s pink tongue swiped at his lips, as if it was searching for a cigarette. “He just drove off, after dropping off your brother.”

A goddamn fool. Jamie shrugged off his denim jacket and dropped it on the ground, letting it soak up the wet snow. Billy couldn’t hold back a smirk and laughed as she strode off.

“Enjoy your evening, Madge.”

She threw up her arm, middle finger flying high. “Asshole.”

The enhanced hearing was both a blessing and a curse, she could hear him light a new cigarette and snickering to himself until she was on the steps of Hawkins Middle again. Billy had, of course, made sure Steve had seen her get wrapped up by him, this douchebag who had beaten Steve half to death, tried to choke Jamie and even assaulted both Dustin and Lucas. Stupid stupid stupid. She thought she had gotten over the notion that guys like that ever changed. Max’ words came back to her, how her step-brother was so angry all the time, but it was no excuse. She thought she knew that. Obviously not.

“Everything okay, kid?”

A large dark figure stood next to the stairs leading into the gym and Jamie yelped loudly. Chief Hopper skulked in the shadows like some common criminal, smoking one of those foul-smelling cigarettes he always did.

“Jesus,” she said, clutching at her heart, and wondered when she had turned into Joyce Byers as that was her signature move. Hopper nodded towards the parking lot, as to repeat his question. “Yeah, yeah, it was just- yeah, everything’s fine.”

Chief Hopper nodded, a small smile penetrating his beard. “Looked kinda cozy.”

“If I tell you to bite me, would you arrest me for slander?” Jamie asked tiredly and leaned against the middle bannister.

“Nah,” Hopper said and winked. They had gone together, more than a month ago, to meet Doctor Owens at a diner. Hopper had helped her negotiate her deal, meaning he had made it abundantly clear to Doctor Owens what would happen if anyone — and he meant anyone — came after Jamie or her family, no matter the cause. He had also demanded Doctor Owens release Jamie’s full medical record to her, even the shady stuff, and hadn’t accepted Owens’ excuse that the people responsible for Jamie’s miraculous recovery had left and it would be impossible to retrieve them.

Doctor Owens promised he would find those records. The rest of the conversation was about Eleven, or Jane Hopper as she was now called, and Doctor Owens had pulled all strings he could find to let her live a normal life. He was, as he had mentioned with a wink, one of the good guys after all.

Chief Hopper reached into his breast pocket and produced a white business card. “It’s a little early, but I heard you’re spending Christmas in Chicago with your dad, so...Merry Christmas, kid.”

“What’s this?” Jamie asked before she made sense of the logo and phone-number on the card.

“Call that number when you get back after the break. She’ll help you out.”

The card had a single phone number and a simple, stylized logo that read: Kim’s Martial Arts, established 1976.

Jamie still clutched the card in her hands when she entered the gym again. Now Jonathan manned the punch-bowl and Jamie scanned the crowd to find Nancy. She hadn’t meant to spend so long outside. The middle-schoolers slow danced on the dance floor and Jamie did a double take. One of the dancing couples were her brother and Nancy. Nancy caught her gaze and did a half shrug when Jamie quirked her brow at them. Dustin looked happy enough, although she wasn’t sure he should be now that the result of the Farrah Fawcett-spray was in full view of everyone.

Okay, well, she tried to find Mike, if they were supposed to swap brothers or something, but he was dancing closely with Eleven. That explained why Hopper was here. She saw Lucas and Max, both giggling and smiling and stumbling, and even Will was dancing stiffly with an unknown girl a couple of inches taller than him.

Jamie took her place next to Jonathan and nudged him to take a picture of the scene. She was sure Dustin at least wanted photographic evidence that he had danced with Nancy Wheeler. The slow song ended and was replaced with a more fast-paced one.

She nodded her head to the beat before realizing she knew this song. “Oh!” she exclaimed and snapped her fingers. “Okay. Right!”

Before Jonathan could ask her if something was wrong, Jamie strode out to the dance floor and located her brother, who was still thanking Nancy for the dance. He widened his eyes at her. “What are you doing? Dancing with my friend’s sister is cool, dancing with my own sister is not!”

“Shut up,” she said and pointed to the ceiling, meaning he should listen to this song. Her head still bobbed and her feet were tapping the rhythm.“Forget about trying to impress anyone. Let’s just show these sons of bitches how the Hendersons does it.”

“Are you seri— oh, you’re serious,” Dustin said weakly as Jamie started to shuffle on the floor. She loved dancing, her whole family loved dancing, and they were good at it — even Dustin.

“It looks dumber if you don’t move,” Jamie sang and tried to get her brother to pick up his feet. “Come on!”

This wasn’t a slow dance. This was a fast-paced, heels down, arms up, _fun_ dance! With no right or wrong moves, it was all about moving to the beat. The speakers blasted and Dustin finally cracked when the chorus came.

_“You spin me right round, baby_  
Right round like a record, baby  
Right round round round!”

She sang along and shook her curls around while Dustin headbanged his new mullet-like ‘fro. Lucas came moonwalking up to them, did a fast twirl and joined them in tearing up the dance floor.

Max appeared and unabashedly pulled some of the dance moves from the music video, her shoulders bobbing up and down to each word in the song. Nancy snapped her way into the circle and sang the lyrics as loud as she could, just as Jamie did.

They gestured to the others and Nancy grinned when Jonathan threw himself in the mix. That convinced Will, who did a very good version of ‘The Running Man’. Eleven looked unsure about what to do, but Jamie and Nancy took one hand each and got her moving with a snake-like motion.

“You guys look ridiculous!” Mike called from outside the circle of enthusiastic dancers. Jamie relented Eleven to Nancy, and grabbed both of Mike’s arms before he could escape.

“You spin me right round, baby, right round!” Jamie sang in Mike’s face and forced him to either dance with her or say good bye to his arms. He stared at her, mortified and embarrassed like only a thirteen years old boy could be. Eventually he cracked too, even if he was rolling his eyes to show any onlookers that he was only doing this ironically.

The song ended with the final: “Like a record, baby, right round round round!” that Dustin did three sharp twirls too, snapping his fingers at the final chord.

“Yeah!” Jamie said and gave Dustin a high-five. She patted his back, out of breath and with painful feet. “Now go get ‘em!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small filler chapter, sorry, but we need to catch our breaths for a second here. Song in the dance scene is Dead Or Alive with "You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)".  
> I'll post the next chapter later this week :)


	10. Chapter 10

Sandra Kim, the owner of Kim’s Martial Arts, turned out to be a tall mixed-raced woman with no patience for silliness. Her dojo - sorry, _dojang_ \- was in Greenwood, half an hour drive from Hawkins. Jamie had taken the bus, even if Steve offered to drive her, because she felt bad for him having to wait for her.

The dojang, which was just the Korean name for dojo, was next to a hair salon on Main Street, and around the same size as Jamie’s living room. The curtains were drawn all the way down, leaving the room lit by only a couple of flickering fluorescent lights. Jamie had been instructed to take off her shoes and place them by the front door and now sat on her knees in front of Miss Kim.

“It’s not Miss Sandra or just Sandra or just Kim, it’s _Miss_ Kim,” she had said when first opening the door to Jamie.

After some time’s scrutiny, Miss Kim asked: “Why do you want to learn taekwondo?”

“Uh...”

Jamie hesitated. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, when she had approached Chief Hopper to ask if he could give her ‘fighting-lessons’. After their fight with Billy, it was kinda obvious that being strong wasn’t enough. She needed to learn some techniques too. He had referred her to Miss Kim again. She scoured her brain for the right answer. Something selfless, maybe, like that she wanted to protect her friends? Or more in the direction that she was only going to use it to defend herself, never attack?

“The only right answer to that question is the truth,” Miss Kim snapped as if she’d read Jamie’s mind.

Jamie nodded and blurted out: “Because I got my ass handed to me by this guy and it made me angry. Sorry.”

At that, Miss Kim raised a neat eyebrow. “Don’t be sorry. Anger is as valid an emotion as any of the others. I, too, first wanted to train in this dojang because I got my ass handed to me by a guy.”

“Did you beat him?”

“Not the first hundred times, no,” Miss Kim admitted and looked down at perfectly manicured hands. “It helped when he turned seventy, he got out of breath faster then.”

Jamie’s jaw had dropped open and Miss Kim winked at her.

“My father, who founded this place,” she explained and gestured to a photo on the wall of a serious Korean man in what Jamie only knew as a martial arts-suit, the same kind Miss Kim was wearing. “Tell me, have you seen ‘Karate Kid’?”

She nodded eagerly.

“Okay, then I need you to do me a favor. Close your eyes. Good. Now, picture in your mind what you want most of all. That guy who beat you, picture him before you, at your feet, defeated by your own very hands. Do you have that fixed in your mind?”

Jamie nodded.

“Okay, good. If you focus on that image, if you really concentrate on believing that vision, if you think about it when you sleep, when you eat, when you shower-”

“Yeah?”

“-then you will still get your ass handed to you the next time you fight him.”

The bubble burst and Jamie’s eyes flew open. Miss Kim sat patiently before her. “The only way you can beat him, is if you get better. And to get better, you will have to train. I’m not talking ‘wax on, wax off’, kid, I’m talking push-ups and crunches and jumping jacks and jogging, endless repetitions of the same kicks, the same punches, the same stance. You need to realize right now that all you’ll get from me depends on what you’re willing to give.”

“I thought you said it was 10 bucks a month.”

“Yeah, that too, but you can pay me for a whole year in advance and it still won’t make you any better.” Miss Kim jumped up and went to the front door where Jamie’s shoes stood. “I don’t usually take on students. I agreed to meet with you as a favor to Jim. If you can’t promise me right here and now that you’re willing to dedicate yourself to get better, it’s better you just leave.”

She opened the door and the outside world poured into the small room.

Jamie was not an athletic person, never had been. Dancing was the extent of her physical activities, and she had double-digits’ worth of missed P.E-classes from 5th grade and up.

And still, she nodded to Miss Kim. “I’m in.”

Miss Kim regarded her for a second and then shut the door. She took off her white suit to reveal a regular aerobics-outfit and went to get something that looked like padded frisbees. Miss Kim gestured for Jamie to get up, holding the circular pads at shoulder height.

“Then let’s see what you got, kid.”

* * *

The next day, Jamie was physically unable to get out of bed. She must have broken her back in her sleep because however she tried, she could not convince her muscles to let her sit upright.

“Mooom!”

Her mom appeared in the doorway half a minute later, curling iron in hand and only one half of her head done. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t move,” Jamie said and flailed helplessly on the bed. “I think I’m paralyzed.”

“Oh honey,” her mom said and rolled her eyes. “Is this really the first time you exercise?”

Apparently, she was suffering from something called DOMS, which was just an abbreviation of delayed onset muscle soreness. It manifested after physical exertion. Of course she had experienced it after running for her life from the Demodogs and stuff, but after those times she’d been sore all over and usually slept for a couple of days.

Despite the incredible pain, her mom insisted it wasn’t dangerous. A hot shower might help, she said. Easier said than done, as Jamie needed at least five minutes just to get up from the toilet seat. Of course Dustin found her weakened state hilarious and pinched her thigh muscles so she nearly blacked out.

She took the bus to school and limped awkwardly to her locker, grimacing at every book she had to retrieve. Nancy met up with her before first period.

“Is something wrong?” she asked and Jamie made a face.

“I exercised.”

“Oh. Okay. And?”

“And now I’m in extreme physical pain,” Jamie said and gingerly took her seat in class. Every time she moved, it seemed she discovered a new muscle that screamed at her. She hadn’t even been aware she had this many muscles.

“Did you learn how to fight?” Nancy asked curiously. Jamie had confided her plans to learn fighting, but had yet to disclose the reason she wanted to do it now, because of newly developed superpowers. Jamie shook her head to answer Nancy’s question. She had learned how to squat and do push-ups and crunches and to run around the dojang, but there had been a distinct lack of punching or kicking.

“I’m going back next week,” she said and marveled at how last night that had sounded too far away in time. Why hadn’t she just gone to the shooting range with Nancy instead? Shooting stuff seemed a lot more useful than squats right now.

Nancy had acquired two new hobbies after the whole ordeal last semester. Shooting was one of them, and journalism the other. She’d joined the school newspaper after kickstarting the story that eventually lead to the shutdown of Hawkins Lab. She and Jonathan were both uncredited authors, of course, only cited as anonymous sources, but Nancy had been determined to continue on that career path. Jonathan had joined too, as the photographer naturally.

Jamie had declined, keeping busy by returning as a full-time member of the PhysEng-club. Mostly because she liked to build stuff, not because she had fully forgiven the guys for not including her in their Halloween-plans. Which worked fine, because Frankie D hadn’t forgiven her for being friends with Steve Harrington.

She was on her way to the PhysEng-workshop in the basement, still aching with each step, and saw Tommy H and his crew looming ahead. It was weird. Steve was still captain of the basketball team, a title he would hold onto until he graduated, but since he’d stopped hanging out with Tommy and the rest, there was a sort of power vacuum as to who actually _was_ the most popular guy at school. As far as she knew, Tommy and Billy were friends, he was always hanging out with them. But where there hadn’t been any doubt that Steve was the most popular, Tommy seemed less eager to just hand the title to Billy Hargrove, Keg King or not.

“Watch it, Co-” Tommy started, but Jamie ducked easily away from the oncoming hand meant to shove her into the lockers again. He moved so slow she had to practically _be_ in a coma to be hit by him. She kept walking, just giving him a clean view of her middle finger over her shoulder.

“You better watch your back, Coma Girl!” Tommy called after her. Jamie put her other middle finger up as well. Tommy was, unlike Hargrove, all talk. Besides, he’d get what he had coming for him soon enough. “Don’t think Harrington’s gonna keep you safe!”

Tommy H stopped shouting and muttered to Carol, which Jamie of course heard clear as anything: “ _That stupid bitch thinks she’s slick just ‘cause she let Harrington dip his tip in. She’s just like Wheeler.”_

Carol said: “ _Hey, Hargrove, didn’t you have a thing with Coma Girl that lasted like five minutes?”_

It was weird, but Jamie could _hear_ Billy suck his bottom lip between his teeth. He sounded tired. “ _Yeah, what of it, Carol?”_

“ _Nothing, just wanted to know, like, if she actually just laid there like in a coma the whole time or...?”_

She had to stop listening in on those conversations. Jamie felt like she was losing braincells by the minute. Braincells she would need if she wanted to get her grade-average back up and running this semester. She winced going down the stairs, thighs screaming in protest with each step. Physics was a bitch.

* * *

The next session with Miss Kim was more of the same, but she was less sore the day after. Less sore meant that every particle of her body still hated her for trying to move, but she wasn’t tempted to have her mom call the ambulance for her. Her appetite was through the roof though and her mom had to make a second portion of scrambled eggs so Dustin would have breakfast.

“Honey, I was thinking here the other day,” her mom said carefully and Jamie stopped chewing to listen. Claudia Henderson was not a woman that beat around the bush and it usually spelled trouble when she sugarcoated things like this. “You know it’s tax-season now for business owners and I’m gonna work late a few weeks, right?”

“Right,” said Jamie with a mouthful of eggs. She couldn’t figure out the angle here. Her mom was an accountant and during tax-seasons she worked a lot of overtime, nothing new.

“And with the snow and ice and all, it’s not always safe to have Dusty bike everywhere.” The boy in question perked up at his name and smiled sweetly at their mom before he returned to his meal. Claudia smiled. “And now that you are off that medication and all...wouldn’t it have been nice if you could drive both yourself and your brother around? Karen told me that Nancy got her permit in November.”

“Yeah.” Jamie swallowed to free her mouth up for talking. “But school doesn’t start driver’s ed before May and like you said, it’s tax-season, so you won’t have time to practice with me.”

“That,” Claudia said with a huge smile that worried Jamie, “is why I was thinking we could put in an ad in the newspaper to get you a private driving instructor.”

“Wait, can we afford a private driving instructor for Jamie?” Dustin piped up with a worried frown. His grin seeped through though when he continued: “I don’t want you tapping into my college fund just ‘cus she’s gonna need like a hundred lessons, she’s so terrible at- OW!”

Claudia sighed. “Jamie, don’t pinch your brother.” She started clearing the table and sighed again. “Dusty, don’t make those gestures at your sister.” From the counter, she looked at Jamie. “I’ll put the ad in tomorrow.”

It weighed on Jamie’s mind when she stepped on the school-bus that morning, watching Dustin skid his way through the slush and gray snow on his bike. Driving a car. The responsibility that entailed. God, she would have to drive Dustin around to his little shithead friends all the time then. But she could stop taking the bus to school, which was a big plus. They couldn’t afford another car though, so she would be driving around in her mom’s station wagon. But if she ever needed to, she could steal a car and escape from whatever life-threatening situation she was in. That was a huge plus, even if you considered how unlikely it was that she should find herself in that kind of jam _again_.

Maybe she could convince Chief Hopper to give her lessons. He was a good driver, well, he didn’t go easy on the gas, but he never got into accidents. As far as she knew anyway.

She really hated February in Indiana. January was their big winter month, but February had equal number of days where the temperature just couldn’t decide where to stay. It was all wet and gray during the day and then it froze overnight, creating the dangerous black ice on the roads in town. And, on top of that, Hawkins had this thing for Valentine’s day. Maybe it was a small town thing, but they loved to go all out during all small holidays in the winter months. Halloween, Christmas, New Years, Valentine’s and Easter. It was probably a ploy from the shops on Main Street now that she thought of it, but it didn’t matter, because all Hawkins residents loved to decorate their houses for all these occasions, and it had spread to the schools too.

From February 1st, red and pink heart banners started to appear at Hawkins High and it never failed to make Jamie sick to her stomach. Cherubs and doves and kittens — they were everywhere. To top it of, it was used as an excuse to promote what many in the year over her viewed as the most important event of their high school career. No, not the SATs, but prom. The school’s obsession with both Valentine’s and prom had sparked a trend referred to as ‘promposals’, which was just as ridiculous as it sounded. Basically, it was asking someone to prom with the same fanfare as one would ask someone to marry them.

To Jamie, there was a big difference between “Will you be my date for one night?” and “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”, but maybe that was just her.

She paused on the steps to the school. There was this...sound. It was a crackling electrical sound, almost like the SuperComms the guys used to communicate. Slowly, she turned, scanning the crowd and the parking lot separating Hawkins Middle and Hawkins High. She couldn’t see her brother or his friends, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there, those little sneaks. It was useless to try and listen after them, another school-bus had just pulled in and all the voices blurred into each other.

There were no reason for her to worry, but the Party of Shitheads had a knack for getting themselves into _real_ trouble, so she did worry nevertheless. Their moms had collectively hoped that Max would be a calming element in the party, because she was a girl, but it had become apparent that Max had three times the balls as the guys and it had only escalated after she joined. It was a good thing Eleven was still in house-arrest, who knew what kind of trouble they would have gotten themselves into otherwise.

* * *

Third session with Miss Kim and they finally did something other than general fitness training. Jamie had officially graduated to learning how to stand. Sounded easy enough, right?

“No, no, feet more together, not that close, bring your leading foot in front of your hip. Think wide and deep and face your hips forward. Bend your front leg, no, not both legs, keep back leg straight.” Miss Kim physically moved Jamie’s legs to where she wanted them to be. If she noticed the violent flinch from Jamie when she positioned her left foot, she did not comment. “This is a-” she nearly pulled Jamie off her feet “-firm and steady stance.”

Jamie had to learn how to center her weight. This was done by her getting into the so-called firm and steady stance and Miss Kim trying to knock her over. She succeeded, several times, before Jamie figured out that she had to evenly distribute her weight over both feet and keep her back in a neutral position. Since this took all session, Miss Kim gave her homework: a 3 mile run and a circuit of bodyweight exercises. Miss Kim could not care less about Jamie’s weirdly high base-level strength, being strong was no excuse for not getting stronger.

A 3 mile run! Jamie had never ran 3 miles in her life. Her current record for the Cooper test was 8 minutes. She was still fuming over that when she got back home and found that someone had been in her room.

“Mom!” she yelled and began tidying up. Drawings and notebooks and old candy wrappers that had been on her desk were strewn onto the floor, some had drifted under her bed. Her mom didn’t answer. “MOOOOM!”

_“Yes, Jamie?”_ her mom answered from the living room after muting the TV.

“The cat got into my room again!” Jamie yelled and snatched all the mess up into a big pile, placing it back on her desk. She had a filing system of one-pile-fits-all, so she always knew where she could find stuff. The desk sat jammed under her bedroom window and some of the mess flowed over onto the windowsill. She and Dustin had gotten their mom a new cat for Christmas, this Siamese little monster that was named Tews.

Her mom appeared in the doorway, carrying the cat in question. “I can’t see how he gets in, you’re sure you closed your door?”

Jamie glared at the tiny cat with venom.“I always close my door, mom, I’m a seventeen years old girl, my bedroom door will always have a default state of being closed.”

“Well, then, I don’t know what to tell you. He can’t teleport, maybe it’s just the wind?” her mom said, already moving back to the TV. Tews meowed at Jamie over her mom’s back and Jamie hissed in response. “Jamie! It’s a cat for crying out loud.”

“Sorry,” she said, but didn’t mean it. Maybe she ought to enlist Dustin and make the room cat-proof. He obviously didn’t have a problem with Tews getting in and making a mess. Of course, it was hard to tell in his room, it was always a mess. He had been her main suspect the first time, but after she’d tickled him until he cried without extracting a confession, he’d been off the hook. The cat probably could teleport, they had no way of knowing for sure.

Or it had learned to open doors. When she was in 2nd grade, Jessica Daniels had told them their cat could open doors by jumping up and hanging on the door knob until it turned.

Maybe if she set some sort of trap...? No, her mom would be devastated if something went wrong and they lost another cat so soon. She and Dustin avoided talking about Mews, because her mother got teary-eyed right away and had to go find Tews to hug him close to her chest. So no trap.

Jamie looked around her room for inspiration. Half of it served as a regular bedroom, with a bed and a dresser with a huge mirror hanging over it, and the other half was her workshop with the desk and some tools she always forgot to return to the garage. In the end, she found what she was looking for on the dresser by the door.

Next time the cat got in, she would have proof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too much action in this chapter unfortunately, hope it was still enjoyable. Laying foundations for what's to come...and giving them a little room to breathe.  
> Thank you for reading, please leave a comment if you want :)


	11. Chapter 11

They were out of milk.

Jamie stared inconsolably into the fridge with sweat plastering her hair to her scalp. Doing as Miss Kim had asked, she had been out for a run. She had dressed for a cold day in February, but the weather decided to pull a fast one and it had been almost 50 degrees out. After downing a gallon of water, she got the urge to finish with some ice cold milk and found that _someone_ had put an empty carton back on the shelf.

“Moom!” she yelled and stomped into the living room to show the evidence. “Dustin put the empty mil - Mom? Mom!”

It was early Saturday afternoon, a time Claudia Henderson usually reserved for watching Family Feud with Tews, but her mom was nowhere to be found in the living room. Jamie concentrated and heard voices from the front hall — someone was at the door.

Not just any old someone, though, it was Billy Hargrove. She stopped dead in her tracks when she recognized the voice. It was smoother than usual, with a tantalizing lilt to it, charm poured into every word. Jamie gagged into her mouth and waited for her mom to set him straight. Her spine froze to ice when her mom _giggled_ in response.

Ugh!

“Mom!” Jamie yelled and jumped out from the corner to the hallway where she had been, not hiding exactly, but waiting. Her mom and Billy both looked up from where they were standing and Jamie realized she couldn’t berate her mom for a conversation she shouldn’t have been able to hear. “Uhh...we’re out of milk.”

“Okay, honey, I’ll put it on the grocery list,” her mom said and had the audacity to look _embarrassed_ on her only daughter’s behalf. Billy stood leaning on the doorframe with a small smile stretching his stubbled jaw and nodded to Jamie. She squashed the urge to stick her tongue out. Her mom turned to Billy again, who deepened the handsome smile, causing her mom to instinctively smooth over her hair. “Billy was just telling me he transferred from San Diego last semester to Hawkins.”

“Uh-huh?” grunted Jamie through gritted teeth. What was he even doing here and why was he downright flirting with her _mom?_ After Snow Ball, she had avoided Billy to her best ability and he’d had the courtesy to do the same with her. And now he showed up at her doorstep?

“And you’ve had your driver’s license for how long now, Billy?”

“Two years now, Mrs. Henderson,” Billy said, still smiling and with a voice as soft and smooth as ice cream on a hot day. He might have more buttons up than usual, but there was still a suspicious amount of chest showing underneath his jacket. Jamie made a face behind her mother’s back, miming his words back to him. Billy saw it, of course, and it only made him crank the charm up another notch. “Got it straight after my fifteenth birthday, paid out of my own pocket, after working as a lifeguard at the local community pool.”

What did that have to do with anything, Jamie wanted to scream. Why would her mom care about his driver’s license or how he bought his car or anything?

Her mom lit up.“Oh, so you have your own car?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no! Just now, she noticed the newspaper clipping in Billy’s hand. The ad! The private driving instructor ad her mom had put in!

“Mom!” Jamie barked, harder than she had planned and her mom gave her a concerned look. She faltered. “Can I — uh — talk to you for a sec?”

“Well, fine, but you better come in, Billy, it’s freezing out there,” her mom relented and gestured for Billy to step off the porch and into the hallway. It was not freezing out there, it was a sudden bright day of spring in the middle of winter, but that did not stop Billy for wiping his boots meticulously on the doormat outside and coming in with a grateful smile. “Can I get yo-”

“MOM!”

Her mom smiled apologetically at Billy, while Jamie clenched her fists together and marched her mom further down the hall, out of sight and earshot of Billy Hargrove. Okay, so, how was she gonna spin this? Hey, mom, the guy you have in the hallway punched Dustin and tried to choke me last semester, no biggie, just thought you should know? That wouldn’t work, because then she would ask when this happened and berate Jamie for not telling her before and it didn’t fit the story that Chief Hopper had spun to keep them from getting in trouble with their families.

“Is something wrong, honey? You’re not being very polite,” her mom asked while Jamie fumed.

“He can’t be my driving instructor!” Jamie snapped and lowered her voice when it echoed in the hallway. “I _know_ him, he’s in my year, and he drives like an asshole-”

“Jamie! Language!”

“Well, sorry, but it’s true!” Jamie stomped her feet like a petulant child. “Have you seen his car? Doesn’t exactly scream road safety.”

“Look, is this about you being embarrassed that someone your age will be teaching you?” her mom asked with way too much patience than Jamie could stand. “I checked out his references and he has never even gotten a speeding ticket, Jamie-honey. And he used to work as a swim teacher for little kids, so he-”

“I’m not some little kid,” Jamie protested, doing her best to prove the opposite. “He’s just- I’m just- he’s not a nice guy, Mom.”

“He seems a lot more polite than most of the other kids at your school. Look, sweetie, I asked if you wanted to have Steve help teach you-”

“A guy whose family makes six figures does not need to use his afternoons teaching me how to drive for five bucks an hour,” Jamie told her mom, once again. She hadn’t actually asked Steve, because it just seemed insulting. That guy had sunglasses that cost more than Jamie’s combined wardrobe.

“Then I don’t see the problem,” her mom concluded and Jamie knew she had lost. Claudia sighed at Jamie’s face. “Look, Billy’s the only one who responded that seemed like a decent guy. Just try, one lesson. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll find someone else.”

Sometimes, her mom’s tendencies to be rational and understanding drove Jamie up the wall.

“Fine,” she snapped and stalked back to the hallway where Billy studied the family photos hanging on the wall. “I’m gonna change clothes, go wait in the car.”

It was a wonder the hallway floor didn’t stain from the grease dripping from Billy’s smirk. “Yes, ma’am.”

Fifteen minutes later, she sat sulking in the passenger seat of the Camaro as Billy drove them out of the neighborhood.

“I just don’t get it.” She reached over to turn the radio off, the song cut off in the middle of a guitar solo. “There are easier ways to ruin my life, you know. What ever happened to good old fashioned bullying? Fill my shoes with snow or steal my homework or something.”

Billy shrugged. All traces of his overpowering charm had disappeared the second they were out of the vicinity of her mom. He turned the radio back on. “I need the cash.”

“I bet, all that hairspray can’t be cheap,”Jamie muttered with her arms crossed. She turned the volume down on the radio, but refrained from turning it off completely. “Can you at least stop flirting with my mom? It’s gross.”

A lazy grin spread on his lips. “She didn’t seem to mind.”

“I stand corrected,” Jamie said with a curl in her upper lip. “ _You’re_ gross.”

“Just to be clear, your dad’s out of the picture, right?” Billy asked and Jamie knew it was only to get a reaction from her and she still had to squeeze her fingers into the car seat to stop herself from responding. “That Mrs-title is just old habit? Only, I didn’t see a ring.”

He’s goading you, he’s goading you, Jamie repeated to herself. It didn’t help that Nancy had confided how Billy had charmed _her_ mom too, back in November, and that Mrs. Wheeler had been the one to disclose Max’ location.

“She looks good for her age, your mom, she could probably teach you a couple of things on how to take care of yourself. You know, so you’re not mistaken for a guy all the time.”

Jamie was so busy repeating the words: one lesson one lesson one lesson that she almost missed the last part of that statement. “Who’s mistaking me for a guy?”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Billy said and leaned back in his seat to drive with one hand, not a position usually favored by driving instructors. “Do you take after your mom or your dad the most? Because if you look like your mom underneath that sweatshirt...” He trailed off and bit his bottom lip, his gaze deep and penetrating from beneath hooded eyelids. “Well, it’s a shame to cover up curves like that, ‘s all I’m saying.”

“You _know_ what I look like underneath my sweatshirt.” Jamie shook her head with a curl in her lip. Billy had raised his eyebrow at her and she stumbled to explain: “First time we met I was dressed up as Madonna, remember?”

“Oh I remember,” he said slyly and Jamie rolled her eyes so far back she was afraid they would get stuck back there. They finally reached their destination, the old parking lot by the mill, a coveted spot for beginning drivers and skateboarders alike. It was mostly clear, no ice at least, but not in a condition for Max to have any place to practice. It was probably driving her crazy, all the roads covered in slush and snow. Californians weren’t used to winters like this.

“Are you ready?” Billy asked and stopped the car. Jamie had almost forgotten their agenda for the day, but she guessed not even Billy had the audacity to try and get paid for just bickering with her. They switched seats and Jamie fumbled to adjust the position, so she could at least reach the pedals.

“You’re too close,” Billy said after she had figured out how to bring the seat forward. “Push down the clutch, your leg should be almost straight.”

Scowling, she did as he told her and found that her leg was nowhere near straight. Without a word, she scooted the seat back a bit. She had driven before, just not very successfully, so she knew to move all the mirrors to her satisfaction. That was the easy part.

The keys were in the ignition where Billy had left them and for a few seconds, they both just sat there after Jamie couldn’t find anything else to adjust.

“Are ya gonna start the car?” Billy asked from his position in the passenger seat. He had his back more against the door than the seat, draped across the corner and almost facing Jamie head-on.

“Uh-huh,” said Jamie and cursed the nerves that were building in her stomach. She knew _how_ to do it, in theory. Clutch and brake down, put it in first (which was where Billy had left it), turn the key, release the brake, and slowly slip the clutch before hitting the gas in one smooth movement. It was what she did and still the car jumped forward with a violent lurch and died.

She ignored the rising blush, gritted her teeth and repeated the steps. The Camaro jerked so both she and Billy were flung forward in their seats. Billy had of course not put on his seatbelt, but she couldn’t look at him to see his expression, the blush had reached her neck and was wrapping its way towards her cheeks.

After the fifth time the car stalled, and Billy _still_ hadn’t said anything, she slammed the car door open and got out. “I’m not doing this. I-I-I can’t.”

The fresh air burned on her face which she expected had taken on a lovely bright red color. She used both hands to shake out her curls, to get some air to her scalp, hoping it would help her cool off. It was so stupid! She knew how a clutch worked, she could take apart any damn engine and put it back together again and she still couldn’t figure out how to start a damn car without stalling it! It was doomed. She would just have to go her life without a driver’s license, like her Great-Aunt Ruth who took the bus everywhere and never came to visit them because Greyhound Express didn’t pass by Hawkins.

Behind her, Billy had gotten out of the car too. “You kinda have to. Starting the car is usually considered the first step to driving anywhere.”

Her middle finger came up in an instant in lack of any worthwhile response. She heard him sigh and light a cigarette, but didn’t turn around. It was too much to be looking at him in addition to everything else. And that was the problem wasn’t it?

“I can’t do it with you-you-you watching me!” she stuttered and flung out an arm, like it was his fault.

Billy looked calm as ever. “Then what do you propose?”

“I don’t know, a blindfold?”

“How can I figure out what you’re doing wrong if I can’t look at you?” Billy’s face was momentarily shrouded in a mix of cigarette smoke and frosty air.

“I’m not doing anything wrong!” Jamie shouted and caused a flock of birds to leap off the roof of the old mill. She counted on her fingers: “Release brake, slip clutch and hit gas. It’s three things! It’s not rocket science!”

At least he had the decency to not point out that if she really wasn’t doing anything wrong, the car would have started. He was annoyingly patient as he waited for Jamie to pace around the parking lot, muttering swearwords under her breath. He could wait as long as he wanted, Jamie was not getting back behind the wheel again. It was bad enough when it was her mom watching her fail to start the car over and over again, but a boy from her school was in many ways like a hundred times worse.

Billy had finished his cigarette and Jamie was still standing a good twenty feet from the car with no immediate plans to return. She heard him sigh again.

“Can we at least get back in the car so I don’t have to freeze my nuts off out here?” he called and Jamie snorted. With jeans as tight as his were, his nuts weren’t going anywhere. She remained rooted to the spot though, hugging herself through the sweatshirt and pondering the least pathetic way to ask him to drive her home. He muttered to himself before he called out again: “ _Jesus Christ._ I can’t teach you if you don’t try, Jamie!”

She spun around. “You’re not teaching, though, are you? You’re just sitting there being all smug without saying anything! Is that how you teach little kids to swim, waiting for them to drown first?”

Billy’s eyelids were heavy and he looked thoroughly unamused at her.

“Okay, fine, I guess drowning is a little more serious than stalling the car,” she relented and avoided looking at him any further. “But it’s kinda obvious that I suck at this and if you’re not going to say anything, you might as well just take me home. This is just wasting both of our time.”

“Just get in the goddamn car,” Billy said and ducked behind the Camaro to slide into the passenger seat again. Jamie threw her head back and growled, before she marched back and got in.

“All right, let’s try this again.” Billy had straightened up in his seat, but still faced Jamie more than the windshield. “Left foot on clutch, right foot on brake, got it?”

Jamie sent him a deadpanned stare, which he deftly ignored.

“Now turn the key.” The engine revved to life with Jamie still pushing the two pedals all the way down. “All right, put it in neutral.” She did and shook the gearshift to ensure that it was, in fact, in neutral. “Release your feet.”

The car still purred idly, as expected, and didn’t move, because the gear house and the engine weren’t connected. Billy nodded and licked his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue.

“Brake and clutch again. All right? Put it in first- keep both feet down!” Jamie had started to release the pedals, but stopped at Billy’s outburst. “Now keep the clutch down and release the brake, you don’t have to go slow, brake doesn’t care.” Oh God, he was projecting human emotions onto car-parts. “Okay, you see, we’re still good. Now I want you to slowly, and I mean slowly, take your foot off the clutch - not all the way, just until I tell you to stop. And keep your hands on the wheel, Jesus Christ.”

Jamie stared and slowly placed her hands back on the wheel. Slowly, as slow as she could, she withdrew her foot, a fraction of an inch at a time.

“Stop there,” Billy said and Jamie’s foot froze. Already sore from the weekly session with Miss Kim and the earlier 3 mile run, her leg vibrated in the effort to hold it in that awkward position. “Now listen.”

He meant listen to the engine, not him, and he made her take her foot a little in and out to make her hear the difference in sound.

“Take a look at the tachometer. It’s around 2000 RPMs. That’s where the car wants to be when you hit the gas pedal. Okay? Place your other foot on the gas, and try to speed up.” The car made an angry _vroom_. “That’s what it sounds like when the clutch and gas go in at the same time. The trick is to release the clutch slowly until you reach that sweet spot at 2000 RPMs, then you take your foot off the clutch while you press the gas pedal gently down. Ready? Now try.”

Jamie’s left foot was strained with effort, but she took it completely off the clutch and hit the gas at the same time. The car jumped forward, the tachometer going as high as 4000 RPMs, before she panicked and hit the brake instead, without adding in the clutch.

“Okay,” Billy said and stroked his stubbled jaw when the car lurched to a full stop. “Remember when I said ‘press the gas pedal gently’? Not floor it right away? Yeah, let’s try that one more time.”

It took two more tries, but then she got the car cruising at about 5 mph on the parking lot.

“Oh my God,” she breathed and stared straight ahead at the completely empty space before her. It barely moved at walking speed, but it still felt scary to be steering such a heavy thing like the Camaro, like she could crash into something any second now. But she was driving and let out an exhilarated laugh. “Oh my God!”

Billy said nothing, but gave her a pointed look she chose to ignore. He made her stop and start again half a dozen times, until they were both sure she could get the car running, even if it took her almost half a minute every time.

Since it would actually be faster to walk back to Jamie’s house than let her drive there herself, they switched back so Billy was in the driver’s seat. Now that she had figured it out, she marveled at how fast he got the car going from 0 to 70mph without even the slightest protest from the engine. It looked effortless.

“So, am I hired?” he asked when they were halfway back. They had spent most of the day at the parking lot and now daylight quickly faded away into twilight. Jamie hesitated. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Even with his sarcastic comments and scrutinizing stares and tendencies to violent outbursts, Billy Hargrove was actually a pretty decent teacher.

“Do you even have time, though?” Jamie asked as if she was trying to convince him to back out of the proposed deal, so she wouldn’t have to. “Like, with the basketball team and-”, she floundered to think of what else Billy Hargrove spent his time on; homework and chores didn’t seem viable options, “-dating and grooming and... stuff?”

“Like I said, I need the cash,” Billy said darkly, not looking at her. He shifted gears when they reached another car and made a nervewrackingly overtake before swerving back into the right lane again. “Besides, I figured it’d be a good investment. If you somehow manage to steal my car again at least it wouldn’t be my brat of a step-sister driving.”

Jamie was glad the dark concealed her face. They had never talked about that night, not that she and Billy talked that much to begin with, but she couldn’t help but wonder what Max had given as an explanation. Billy had to have known something was going on, something a bit more serious than the role-playing game Dustin had made it out to be. Either Max had told him a convincing story or he simply didn’t care. Jamie suspected Max’ knocking him out and threatening him was a harder pill to swallow than any interdimensional monster-tale, but the relationship between him and Max had seemed to improve after that.

“If you want the job, you’re hired,” she finally said when they reached her street. At least Billy had the sense to slow down, the whole neighborhood crawled with kids. She grinned to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep a low profile at school and pretend you’re still just some guy I threw up on once.”

“Much appreciated,” Billy said without a trace of emotion in his voice and kept the car running after he pulled up by their house. His mood switched from hot to cold and back again without warning and suddenly his trademark smile glittered in the darkness. “Tell your mom I said hi.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said and waved her middle finger at him while she got out of the car. She heard him chuckle and the second she closed the door, he sped off. The Camaro spun away from sight, looking like a predatory shark in the sea of middle-class station wagons and minivans that littered the nearby streets.

Something caught her eye across the street up by Mr. Abber’s house. A glint of light in a shadow darker than its surroundings. It was too far off for Jamie’s enhanced night vision to help, but she heard the rustling of cloth and fast footsteps as the shadow moved.

Jamie paused by the front door, almost inclined to go after the shadow. She shook it off. Probably someone out walking their dog or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if this counts as fluff, but I personally like this chapter for its easygoing nature. 
> 
> But come on, it's Hawkins, how long is it gonna stay monster-free?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and extra big mega-heart to everyone who comments. You are amazing!


	12. Chapter 12

“Oh good morning, honey,” Claudia said when Jamie trudged into the kitchen. Her eyes were still crusted and she rubbed them in an attempt to make them stay up. “Everything okay? You look a little rough.”

“You look like shit.”

Jamie grimaced at her brother and gave him the finger when their mom wasn’t looking. She felt like shit. After her alarm went off, she had laid twenty minutes in the bed just staring at the ceiling. It was as if she had gotten less than an hour of sleep, even if she was pretty sure she’d been in bed for around eight.

“Didn’t sleep well,” she muttered and reached for the cereal as Dustin had finished off all the pieces of toast. “Weird dreams.” Weird, lifelike dreams. She stared at Dustin as he tried to eat, drink and read a comic at the same time. “You weren’t in my room last night, were you?”

He had sleepwalked a bit when he was younger, but it was years since Jamie last woke up to him standing by her bed and screaming her lungs out until their parents came. Dustin looked like he found the question ridiculous.

“No,” he insisted and returned to the imaginary world of superheroes. When it became obvious that Jamie’s so-called powers weren’t going to get more interesting than above-average hearing and above-average strength, he had sort of lost interest. Which suited Jamie fine, because lifting heavier and heavier weights at Dustin’s insistence just so he could record it wasn’t her idea of fun.

It hadn’t looked like Dustin either in her dream, so she let it drop. It had been this guy, dressed in black, with the bottom of his face covered in a surgical mask. Now that she thought back on it, it seemed a lot more scary than when she first dreamt it.

Nancy listened to Jamie repeat the dream during their mutual free period that they spent in the library to catch up on homework. Normal friends would just agree that it was indeed a weird dream, but their experience with the bizarre had left Nancy somewhat borderline paranoid.

“And he stabbed you with a needle?” she repeated and Jamie nodded. “Did he inject or withdraw?”

“What?”

“Did it feel like he was injecting you with something or was he drawing blood from you?”

“Nancy, it was a dream,” Jamie explained again, even if the question made her squeamish. “It didn’t really happen.”

“It could have.” Nancy pulled out her notebook, but didn’t even open it. “Haven’t you ever thought about how long you spent at the hospital at the mercy of those doctors from Hawkins Lab?”

“I was in a coma,” Jamie said slowly, careful not to raise her voice.

“Yeah, and then one day you just woke up.” Her mom had told her that Nancy had visited her every single day Jamie was at the hospital — every single day for five months. And given Jamie’s state after waking, Nancy probably had a better grip on the narrative than she did. “I mean, come on, they had you take these heavy antidepressants you didn’t need for almost a year.”

“They probably thought I was traumatized,” said Jamie. She was not liking where this conversation was headed. She couldn’t tell Nancy about how much actually had changed after she stopped taking those pills. It was bad enough that Dustin knew.

“Yeah, but real doctors diagnose first and prescribe later,” said Nancy with raised eyebrows. “Aren’t you pissed off? They basically stole half a year of your life where you were moping around like a zombi- like you were half-asleep.”

“I guess?” Jamie wasn’t pissed off, to be honest, she hadn’t exactly suffered those months she was taking the pills. She hadn’t really felt anything. “But Nancy, you already brought down the lab. It’s over.”

“But what if it’s not?” Nancy said in a loud whisper, her fingers were tearing at the paper in her notebook. “I just, I get this feeling sometimes, like it’s not over, you know? That it’s never gonna be over, not really. Those people lost their jobs, sure, but they’re still out there.”

“And you think they’re sneaking into my bedroom at night to stab me with needles?” Jamie asked with as straight a face that she could manage. “With two other people and a cat in the house, in the neighborhood with the highest concentration of busybodies in entire Hawkins? Nancy, I can’t even open my window at night without Mrs. Troy from two doors down calling my mom to let her know about it.”

Nancy deflated and stared at the tattered remains of her notebook.“I guess it is kinda ridiculous.”

“Look, that doctor I saw — Doc Owens — he used to talk about this whole thing with trauma and PTSD and stuff. Like the soldiers who came back from ‘Nam, right? He said the once with the worst PTSD were those who _didn’t_ get injured. The ones who didn’t have a physical scar or ache or proof of what had happened over there.”

Jamie waited until Nancy absorbed this. She didn’t take it as well as Jamie had hoped. “So, you’re saying I’m seeing monsters in the shadows because I don’t have a scar covering my left leg? That I’m paranoid just ‘cus I escaped and Barb-”

Nancy stopped and refused to look at Jamie, who she very well knew hadn’t mentioned Barbara. Nancy muttered something about the school newspaper and gathered up her things, leaving Jamie alone at the library.

Jamie hadn’t been there when Barbara went missing. Jamie hadn’t been there when Jonathan went to ID Will’s fake body. Jamie hadn’t been there when Nancy followed the Demogorgon into the Upside Down. Jamie hadn’t gotten involved until Dustin asked her to help build a sensory depravation tank for Eleven. She had then stuck with Nancy and Jonathan when they tried to lure the Demogorgon to the Byers and kill it, a plan that backfired catastrophically. She supposed she would never understand how it was like for Nancy and Jonathan with their so-called ‘shared trauma’. It hadn’t been her friend that was taken, or her brother who went missing.

“Gee, I hope I’m not interrupting something totally depressing.”

Steve had snuck up on her, meaning he had probably been in plain sight since he came inside the library, and he took Nancy’s seat next to Jamie.

“You okay, Henderson? You look-”

“Like shit, I know,” she groaned and pushed the ignored textbook away from her. “Dustin already told me.”

“I was gonna say ‘a little under the weather’, but sure,” Steve said with a polite smile. “Everything okay?”

“Bad dream,” she replied and hastily added: “A regular one. No Demo-monsters in sight.”

“Well, if there are monsters, just let me know. I keep the bat out in the trunk of my car. Dad found it, by the way, when we were going to Aunt Fay’s Christmas Party and I had a hell of a time explaining that one.” Steve changed his voice to be lighter and panicked. “Oh, uh, it’s not a weapon, Dad, I’m using it to train my wrists for basketball.”

Jamie laughed. “How does that work?”

“I have no idea,” Steve admitted and pushed his gravity-defying hair out of his face. “Still not sure if he bought it. So - uh- you got a date for prom yet?”

“Prom is like three months away.” Jamie grimaced at just the thought of it. It was one thing to attend her brother’s middle school Snow Ball, where she was automatically cool by just being a high schooler, but dressing up and hanging out with her peers? No thanks.

“Yeah, I know, but you usually ask someone to prom in February, right? Because of Valentine’s and stuff. So, anyway, I was thinking that- _aaand she’s gone._ Jamie, hey, are you listening?”

She wasn’t, because the main doors to the library had opened to reveal two of Hawkins PD’s finest: Officers Callahan and Powell. They were talking to the librarian, who in turn was pointing in Jamie and Steve’s direction.

“You think she heard me about the bat?” Steve asked with a concerned wrinkle between his brows. Whatever it was, Callahan and Powell were definitely heading their way. The whole library had stopped to stare at the two policemen, including Jamie and Steve, who were granted a closer look than most.

“Jamie Henderson?” Powell asked in that deep voice of his. She wondered if it had been so long since she last got in trouble with Hawkins PD that he didn’t recognize her anymore. She nodded.

“We’re gonna need you to come with us,” Callahan said, his mustache twitching on his face as he talked.

“Did something happen? Is Mom okay? Dustin?” she asked and tried to pack up her stuff without breaking eye-contact with the officers. Their faces revealed nothing.

“Nothing’s happened to your mom or brother,” Powell said reassuringly. He was a lot smarter than his partner, but that wasn’t a hard feat. “We just need you to come down to the station to answer some questions.”

“Wait, are you arresting her?” Steve had got up when Jamie did. “‘Cus you need a warrant to arrest someone.”

“Not arresting anyone, Romeo,” quipped Callahan and held up his arms to keep Steve calm. “Just got some questions for young Miss Henderson.”

“Steve, it’s fine,” Jamie murmured, not wanting to attract more attention than necessary. She was more concerned with missing Chemistry than whatever questions they had to throw at her. For a wild moment, she thought it could be about that shadowy figure she had seen earlier, maybe something had happened in the neighborhood and they were looking for witnesses. That didn’t make sense though, no one else had been out then.

It was not a good look to be escorted out of the school by two police officers. Sure, she weren’t in handcuffs, but it did look like she was being arrested. She clutched her bag in front of her chest like a shield. Of course they had come right in the middle of recess, when the halls were filled with students of all years, and she saw Tommy and Carol snicker by their lockers.

A dreadful feeling spread in the pit of her stomach that maybe she was being set up for something.

Billy was there too, next to Tommy and Carol, but as per their agreement when he became her driving instructor, she pretended not to know him. It didn’t seem like he cared about that though, as he held eye contact with her for as long as he could. His face was blank, like it usually was when it wasn’t smirking or laughing.

“Jamie?” asked Nancy, emerging from the newspaper office. Her eyes went from Callahan and Powell to Jamie and back again. Jamie just shrugged.

They finally reached the police car and Jamie rolled her eyes when Callahan opened the back door to let her get in. Of course she had to sit in the back, there were three of them, but now it definitely looked like she was being arrested.

“What’s going on?” she asked in the safe confines of the car. Powell was driving.

Callahan didn’t bother to turn around when he answered her. “You’ll see.”

At the station, she recognized Mr. Merril Wright, who owned the fields next to the old mill where she and Billy had practiced driving. He was a plump man with a clean-shaven red face and she had never seen him without his baseball cap on.

“You!” he said and pointed an angry finger at Jamie when she entered the station. Jamie automatically took a step backwards, right into Callahan, who pushed her back again. Merril’s finger twitched and his face was splotched red. “3,000 dollars worth of damage! And here I thought you had finally grown up and we were safe from your-” he sputtered and searched for a word “-heedlessness!”

“Uhh...” Jamie hesitated. It had been years since she had last had dealings with Mr. Wright, when it had ended in a settlement that ensured Jamie could say goodbye to her allowance for all foreseeable future. “Did something happen?”

“DID SOMETHING HAPPEN?” exploded Mr. Wright and Florence had to put a calming hand on his arm to stop him from leaping over the desk at Jamie. Powell escorted the speechless Jamie into their interview room and left Callahan behind to diffuse the ticking time bomb called Merril Wright.

“Oh no,” said Jamie when she saw the insides of the interview room. The usual empty table was occupied by what was known in Hawkins PD as a ‘Henderson Special’. It was not as much a potato gun as it was a potato launcher, refitted to take vegetables up to the size of pumpkins. It was her own design, a cross between a wheelbarrow and a cannon, and it could load and shoot up to ten shots in a row.

Chief Hopper had confiscated her first working prototype. She had underestimated the firing range and poor Mr. Wright had thought the Russians were attacking him when vegetables began bursting _through his living room wall_. The Chief along with Jamie’s parents had had a long and good talk about taking possible consequences into consideration _before_ \- and this was important - _before_ pulling the trigger.

“Look familiar?” asked Powell and had her sit down next to the DIY monstrosity. It did, she would know that design anywhere.

“It’s not mine!” she blurted out, finally remembering that Mr. Wright had said something about 3,000 dollars worth of damage. “You took mine, remember? Made me sign a contract that I would never build one again!”

“That’s right,” said Powell slowly. “And still, here we are. Again.”

“Someone must have copied my design!” she protested, all the while thinking how impossible that was. It was the _exact_ same design, from the specific angle of the wheels to the stack of straws used to pipe the aerosol into the chamber. It had been made with the materials she had available when she was in 6th grade. “Look, if I was gonna build it again, I can think of at least five different ways to make it more efficient. _And_ I would give it a remote launcher, you know, for safety purposes.”

“Safety purposes?” Powell repeated as if he had not heard her correctly. Powell was, as mentioned, a lot smarter than Callahan. There weren’t a lot of black people in Hawkins, but Officer Powell was one of them. He was a Vietnam-veteran, usually kept his cool no matter what you threw at him and had a couple of kids in Elementary School where his wife worked as a teacher. She liked Powell, a lot more than his partner Callahan, but she could tell he was not convinced when she tried to tell him it wasn’t her cannon.

“So you’re telling me this is _not_ a Henderson Special, just a knock-off?”

She nodded quickly. Who else could have come up with this design though? This was way beyond whatever Tommy H and Carol could have pulled off if they wanted to frame her. Frankie, Louie and Connor had no motive, in fact, they were depending on her to help build their toaster-oven in time for the HSEC in April.

Powell nodded too, but slowly. “Can you take a closer look at the pipe for me? See if you recognize anything?”

The pipe in question was a 18” PVC-pipe with a device inside that allowed you to adjust the inner radius from potato to pumpkin-size. It was standard sewer-pipe that you could get at any hardware store for just a couple of bucks. When she built the cannon back in 6th grade, she hadn’t exactly thought about possibly incriminating herself, and had used a knife to carve in her last name as a sort of signature in the hard polymer of the pipe.

She saw the name ‘HENDERSON’ in large blocky letters on the underside of the pipe. All the letters were angular, as if they had been carved in by someone not used to holding a knife. Her stomach sank to her knees.

“Ohh.”

“Oh,” Powell agreed. “You wanna wait ‘till your mom gets here before we continue this conversation?”

Well, she thought and slammed back down onto the chair. At least she didn’t have to worry about paying Mr. Wright back for any damages. She’d be going to prison for murdering her little brother.

* * *

She wasn’t grounded. Not because her mom didn’t think she deserved it, but because she needed to be out and about, handing out resumes. If she didn’t have a summer job lined up before the end of April, she would be working for free at Merril Wright’s farm every weekend until she graduated from High School.

Her mom, usually a soft and kind woman, had not been happy about having to take time off work in the middle of tax-season, when their office was scrambling to keep up with the workload. Her mood had not improved when it turned out the reason she needed to take time off from work was to pick up her daughter from the police station. And for some reason, agreeing to pay off the 800 dollar settlement to Mr. Wright had not put a smile on her face either. Merril’s insurance would cover the rest.

“I just thought you had matured more, that’s all,” her mom said as they drove home. Jamie would have preferred her to shout and scream, instead of this quiet disappointment. The worst punishment was having to call her father and tell him what had happened.

“Oh, Jamie-baby,” her father had said and Jamie could picture him rubbing his beard. “Hand the phone to your mother, please.”

Jamie fumed and did as told. She sat down on the back of their couch, so she could see the front door. Dustin was _dead_ the second he came home.

Her mom went back to the office after another lecture about responsibility and the value of money. Time went on and the clock reached six - seven - eight o’clock and Dustin still hadn’t come back home from school.

That little shit.

She called the Byers, Sinclairs and then the Wheelers. Joyce and Mrs. Sinclair thought the boys were at the Wheelers, while Mrs. Wheeler thought she had heard them in her basement, but she wasn’t sure. She was in the middle of putting Holly to bed and couldn’t talk.

Jamie grudgingly put on her boots and heavy duffel coat. A car would have been nice right around now. She could call Steve...no, it was bad enough that she had been arrested in front of him, even though they had said it was only questioning, no need to involve him. He would probably be all calm and rational and prevent her from strangling the little shits and that kind of positive energy was not something she needed right now.

The basement windows were dark when she reached the Wheelers’ house. She asked to be let in, feigning an excuse to get a book Dustin had left behind when Mrs. Wheeler had said Nancy was out. Jamie stalked down the stairs where it permanently smelled like stale sweat and rank Cheetos. She flicked the light switch, but couldn’t see anyone. All right, time to embrace those superpowers.

In the middle of the room, next to the table used when they were campaigning against make-belief monsters, she closed her eyes and _listened._

Upstairs, Holly was babbling to herself, still not asleep, and Mr. Wheeler was somewhere nearby, probably in the same room as Holly, snoring deeply. Mrs. Wheeler was humming to herself. Okay, what if she tried something else. It was easier to focus on one _kind_ of sound. Like heartbeats.

She counted three in the house, along with her own, two next doors where that nice retired couple lived, and four in the house across the road, including the erratic thumping of something smaller than a human, like a guinea pig or something.

No Dustin, no Mike or anyone else from the party.

Joyce and Mrs. Sinclair would probably have known if the boys were hanging out at their respective houses. The Wheelers, however conservative their political views were, had a liberal take on child care and only had a vague idea of where their kids were most of the time.

Jamie grabbed a book at random, in case Mrs. Wheeler noticed her leaving (she didn’t) and listed the party members in their head. They hadn’t been at the Hendersons, unless they had been waiting outside for her to leave and then snuck in, which sounded a bit too sophisticated for them. Hopper’s cabin seemed unlikely too, he would kick them out just to avoid drawing attention to him and Eleven.

So that left Max.

Old Cherry Road was just a couple of blocks away from where the Hendersons lived, in what her mother referred to as a lower-middle class neighborhood. The Sinclairs and Wheelers up at Maple Street were distinctly upper-middle class residences. Jamie wondered what that made the Hendersons, middle-middle class maybe?

The closer she got to downtown Hawkins, the smaller the houses seemed to get. Old Cherry Road and the surrounding streets had been developed in the 40s, and consisted of small one-story houses with a small garage that mostly didn’t fit modern cars. People solved this by leaving the garage door permanently open and parking most of the car inside. She didn’t know exactly which house was the Hargrove residence, just had a vague idea of direction from where Billy drove off after their driving lessons, but she was lucky to see the Camaro sitting parked outside a house with a large American flag hanging from the porch.

Their garage sat empty, so Max and Billy’s parents were probably out.

Billy was definitely home though and she could hear the rock music blaring from within the four walls of the otherwise quaint house. It seemed a long shot to ring the door bell, but she did anyway. All the curtains were drawn on the front of the house and she had no way of trying to hear if her brother and his friends were inside with the incessant guitar playing Billy seemed to listen to all the time.

Jamie growled and pressed the door bell multiple times before she knocked heavily on the door. It swung open, mid-knock, to reveal Billy Hargrove’s handsome scowl. As always, shirts were an optional in Billy’s world, but at least now he wasn’t pretending to even wear one. He had a towel around his neck, a cigarette in his mouth and sweat dripped from his forehead.

The scowl cleared up at the sight of Jamie. He used the towel to wipe sweat from his neck. “It’s a bit late for a driving lesson, Madge.”

“Shut up,” Jamie snapped, in no mood for his games tonight. “Is Max home?”

His eyebrows rose. “I think so?”

“Is she alone?”

At that, his face darkened. “She better be.” Billy regarded her for a few seconds and she was about to start explaining that she was only there to commit some light-hearted fratricide, but Billy opened the door and let her in without a word.

The house looked cozier from inside and she guessed Max’ mother did most of the homemaking. The door to Billy’s room stood agape, and it was the origin of the heavy music. Jamie rolled her eyes at the half-nude posters on Billy’s walls and went inside to turn off the stereo. It reeked of cigarette smoke, cologne and sweat and Jamie’s eyes watered. A large weightlifting bar was in a rack next to the bed - Billy had been working out when she got here.

“Jesus Christ, open a window, man,” Jamie coughed and pushed the off-button on Billy’s stereo. She held up a finger to quiet his protests and went back out in the hallway. “Shh, shh.”

Billy abided without comment, for once in his life, and just watched as she stepped down the hallway slowly. She heard her own heartbeat, Billy’s powerful one right next to her, and no less than five sets of fast-paced hearts thumping behind one of the doors.

“ _Guys, you have to be completely quiet,”_ someone whispered as low as they managed. Dustin. “ _Com-plete-ly.”_

Jamie held up a hand to Billy to keep him quiet too and slowly, slowly reached for the doorknob. She took a deep breath and held it as she twisted the knob, little by little, so if anyone was watching it intently on the other side they wouldn’t be sure if it was moving or if it was just their mind playing tricks on them and she could not possibly know they were there and-

She yanked the door open.

Five different screams hit her: “AAAAAAHHH!”

“YOU’RE DEAD, YOU LITTLE-” Jamie screamed and dived for Dustin. He shrieked like a girl, scrambled over Max’ bed, and tried to escape. He shoved Lucas down so Jamie tripped on him, face planting on the floor.

“AAAAH! AAAH! AAAH!” Dustin ran crazily around the Hargrove house to keep Jamie from getting hold of him. She was inches from grabbing his hair, when he ducked behind Billy, using the older teen as a mildly confused shield. Jamie reached around Billy and closed her fingers around Dustin’s hooded jacket. Dustin screamed like a madman and did a crazy dance so Jamie was left with only the jacket and no Dustin.

Dustin howled at the top of his lungs, just as the other kids were shouting at Jamie. “WE’RE SORRY, WE’RE SORRY!”

“Not sorry enough!” she growled and threw herself over the kitchen table. Dustin escaped within the inch of his life by wrenching open the backdoor and running into the yard. Jamie shot after him. “GET BACK HERE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

Out in the open, Dustin ran for his life and Jamie followed. Still two inches taller than him, she caught up and tackled him into the wet and soggy snow-covered ground. Dustin’s voice cracked and turned shrill when she wrestled him into the snow, face down. She managed to trap one of his arms under her knee and he screamed when she applied pressure, careful not to break his arm.

“NOOOO!”

Dustin flailed and twisted to throw Jamie off his back, but she forced him down and began seeping up large lumps of snow, stuffing them down the back of his shirt. The snow froze her fingers, but she didn’t care, fuelled by pent-up anger at her idiot little brother. When there was no more within arm’s reach, she twisted him around and grabbed his head in an old-fashioned headlock.

“ _Headlocks are against the law!”_ Dustin shrieked and Jamie squeezed her legs around his stomach so he couldn’t squirm as much.

“ _Do I look like the goddamn police?!”_ she yelled and twisted his earlobe painfully. “You break into my room! You steal my design! YOU WRITE _MY_ NAME ON THE KNOCKOFF LAUNCHER AND GET _ME_ ARRESTED!”

Dustin flailed and hit the at her with a flat palm. “Uncle! _UNCLE!”_

With a huff, she let him go. He tried to get up and she kicked his legs out from under him. With angry movements, she got up herself and brushed herself off. Her clothes were soaked and muddied and she had claw marks up her arms where Dustin had tried to fight back.

“Jamie!”

She had almost forgotten about their audience and they all stood inside the Hargrove kitchen. It was Max who called her name, standing in the middle of the doorway.

Max swallowed, but she was not a coward. “It was my idea. I found the drawings.”

Behind her, Jamie saw Billy rub his face with a mutter of: “ _Jesus Christ_.”

“ _You_ stole my drawings?” Jamie asked, walking back with heavy legs to the house so she stood in the light seeping from the kitchen windows. “And you built the launcher, by yourself?”

The redhead hesitated, before she nodded. Jamie rolled her eyes.

“And it was _your_ idea to carve _my_ name on the pipe?”

Before Max could confirm this, Dustin piped up: “It was to pay homage. The design was so awesome.”

“Homage?” Jamie yelled and Dustin flopped backwards on the ground in case she wasn’t done with the physical assaults. Max rolled her eyes, as if Jamie had believed she had been in on this alone. “You pay homage by getting me arrested? There was 3,000 dollars worth of damage on Merril’s farm!”

“Oh shit,” said Dustin. He was muddy and red in his face from the cold, but didn’t look to be injured otherwise. “Shit. That’s a lot of money.”

“It’s not even about the money!” Jamie cried and threw her hands up. She leaned her head back and sighed, placing both hands on her hips. “Okay, it’s kinda about the money, but mostly it’s about, you know, thinking of the consequences! The only reason this doesn’t go on my permanent record’s because Merril thinks the world of Mom and agreed not to press charges!”

“We just thought it was a cool-looking potato gun,” Lucas said and swallowed when Jamie turned his focus on him. “We didn’t think it was illegal or anything.”

Billy was leaning on the doorway next to Max. He looked amused.“You got arrested for some kind of potato cannon?”

“Technically, the Henderson Special falls under the long-range ballistic missile category.” Jamie swallowed and shook her head, snow and mud dripping from her hair. “And those are illegal as civillian property.” She turned to her brother who had found it smartest not to get up yet. “And Dustin _knows this, if he had taken two freaking seconds to think!”_ She smacked her own head to indicate where the thinking should have taken place. A new deep breath through her nose did nothing to calm her down. “Homage, really?”

“Why is it called the Henderson Special?” Billy didn’t seem overly stressed out at the situation, but when did he ever?

“Because I designed it! In like, 6th grade. It’s a high-powered missile launcher made from stuff you can get from Home Depot.”

“It was kind of cool, actually,” Max told Billy with a half-smile. “We easily got 200 yards.”

“200 yards?” Jamie frowned. “You only got 200 yards? What kind of propellant were you using?”

“Uh, hairspray?”

“Oh, no, no, no, you gotta use body spray or something with a higher concentration of butane. Or carburettor cleaner, I think my record was 600 yards when- no! That was not a challenge!” Jamie said and pointed her finger at Max who had lit up at sound of 600 yards. “Playing with combustibles is not for kids and should be left to professionals.”

“What, like you?” asked Mike from somewhere behind Max, though he also backed off at the sight of her expression.

Jamie splayed her hands out. “See this? 10 fingers!” She pointed at her face. “Two eyebrows, a whole nose, no broken teeth. I have experimented with chemicals since I was ten and never- oh God.” Jamie paused and rubbed her face. From behind her hand, she called out: “This was not the lecture I had in mind! You scared Merril and his wife half to death - again! He still can’t hear an exhaust pipe blow off without running for cover and _this is not funny!”_

Billy disagreed and had begun laughing lowly in his throat. It might have been the sight of Jamie trying to be stern or the thought of the old farmer ducking his head and running into Melvald’s when some teenager went past on a trimmed Vespa.

“It’s not!” Jamie insisted, though her chest shook with the effort of not laughing herself. Billy wiped a single tear from his eye.

“All right. How much do these little shits owe you?”

Jamie blew air out of her mouth to let out some steam. Dustin had slowly gotten up from the ground, when he was certain she wouldn’t put him in a headlock again. “Well, my Mom loaned me the cash, but 800 bucks.”

Billy whistled and the kids gaped.

“800 bucks!” Dustin protested and pushed his muddy hair out of his face. “That’s bullshit! We can buy a whole new house for that kind of money!”

Jamie stared at her little brother and wondered how the son of an accountant could have such little understanding of value. She ruffled up his hair, a more painful act of affection than it appeared to be. “Yeah, well, you’re either helping me pay this down _or_ you’re telling all of our parents what really happened and you gotta pay anyway.”

“How are we gonna come up with all that money?” Lucas whined. “That’s at all of our combined allowances for...” He paused as he did the numbers in his head. “...80 weeks!”

“Well,” said Jamie and gave Dustin a pointed look. It took him a few seconds before he caught on.

“Oh, no, come on! No! I love that guitar!”

“You don’t even know how to play!”

“I’m learning!” Dustin protested weakly. He had gotten an electric guitar for his birthday two years ago and it had been a novelty for around two weeks. After he realized it would take him a little longer to actually master the instrument, it was stowed away. As far as Jamie knew, it hadn’t come out of his closet since and it would not kill him to sell it to someone who would appreciate it more. “It’s not fair!”

Jamie raised her eyebrows.

“But not as unfair as being wrongfully arrested,” Dustin hastily added. He shivered in the cold air of the night. “Can we go back inside now? I’m freezing my balls off.”

“Go get some towels,” Billy muttered to Max in the doorway. “Susan’s gonna have a fit if these two idiots get mud all over her floors.”

Jamie tried to wipe off most of the muddy snow from her pants and did the same to Dustin. She was wet, but he was soaked to the bone. Not that she felt bad, little dickhead had it coming, but he ought to change out of those clothes pretty soon before he caught a cold.

“Was Mom mad?” he asked thinly and used his fingers to wipe earth out of his ears.

“What do you think?” Jamie asked sardonically, but stopped shaking out her hair. She straightened up and hushed at Dustin to be quiet.

“I’m not even talking.”

Jamie hissed: “You’re breathing too loud then! Now shhh!”

There was a rustling noise coming from the woods. The Hargrove backyard wasn’t fenced in and ended where the trees began, dark rising shadows reaching for the skies.

“Do you hear that?” she asked Dustin.

“Uhm, no? Regular hearing here, and I still got snow in my ears.”

“There’s something-”

The _something_ let out an inhuman screeching roar. It went straight to Jamie’s primal brain, the one that screamed _DANGER_ when faced with a predator, and her breath caught in her throat.

Dustin whispered next to her: “I heard that.”

“What _was_ that?” asked Max from the doorway where she waited with the towels. The others, apparently tired of the cold, had retreated further indoors, but turned at Max’ words.

The trees rustled again and now Jamie saw the tree tops swaying against the night sky. Whatever it was, it was moving. Her first thought was Demogorgon and her leg tingled at just the thought, as if muscle memory remembered what it was like when that thing had clamped down on her leg. The roar came again, closer.

“Uh,” said Dustin and Jamie watched in horror as the trees shook and moved, large branches creaking and breaking. She grabbed her brother as a shadowy mass came bursting from the tree line.

“GET IN!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I loved the last chapter, I had to get the plot going again beyond just character development.   
> So, here ya go, a rare double update for this week :)
> 
> Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think!


	13. Chapter 13

Dustin and Jamie had barely made it inside the Hargroves’ kitchen before Max slammed the door shut. She locked the door with a hard _click_ and drew the lace curtains shut, as if that would keep them safe. Lucas, Mike and Will were glued to the window next to the door, noses pressed against the glass and Jamie wondered if this Susan-woman was going to have a fit about that too.

“Do you see it?”

“What is it?”

“Is it the Demodogs?”

Whatever it was, it shrieked like a wailing ghoul from outside. Jamie shoved herself between Will and Mike. The light from the porch light reached maybe three feet into the backyard, everything beyond was pitch black. Not just dark or shadowy, but an impenetrable blackness that indicated mass.

“It’s not the Demodogs,” Dustin lisped, having pressed himself underneath Jamie’s armpit to get a look through the window. Nothing was moving, but there was this overwhelming feeling of something looking _back_ at them. Jamie had to agree with Dustin, it didn’t sound like the Demodogs.

Billy asked: “What the hell is a Demodog?”

“Are we absolutely sure that all the Demodogs died?” Lucas asked with a hard voice.

“It’s not a Demodog!”

“I know that, Dustin! But the Demodog was not in its final form!”

“I don’t think it’s a Demogorgon either,” said Mike. “A Demogorgon would have attacked. This thing is staying back.”

“A Demo-what?” Billy again.

“I’m saying, what if the Demogorgon wasn’t the final form either?” Lucas asked and received a collective stunned silence in return. Jamie couldn’t even picture how a Demogorgon could grow to be even bigger or nastier.

“No, no way,” said Dustin quickly. “The Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes clearly says that the Demogorgon was its final physical manif-”

“This is not Dungeons and Dragons!” Max yelled to break up the hurried bickering between the boys. “Dart grew from a couple of inches to a full Demodog within a matter of days. It’s been months now! What if it just keeps-”

“HEY!” barked Billy and clapped his hands loudly to get their attention. “ _What the hell is a Demogorgon?”_

Dustin, the walking bestiary, explained: “A Demogorgon is a being from the 88th Abyssal plain that relies on- what? He asked!”

“Dustin, just, no,” Jamie said and shook her head at her younger brother. She peered out behind the curtain of the door. “I think it’s still there. We should call Hopper.”

“It’s probably just a moose or a bear,” Billy said disgustedly and pushed Jamie away from the backdoor. “Jesus Christ, I’ll scare it-”

“NO!” all shouted in unison and Jamie flung herself at the door to prevent him from opening it. Jamie hissed: “Are you insane, you can’t go out there!”

“Because it might be a being from the 88th Abyssal plain?” Billy asked sarcastically, his face inches from hers, so she could see each individual strand of his sparse moustache. “I’ll take my chances.”

“It could be rabid!” Jamie yelled and slapped his hands away from the doorknob. She inched herself sideways so it was behind her, out of reach.

Billy supported himself on the doorframe and leaned even closer, a hairwidth from touching her nose with his: “A rabid moose?”

“Whatever it was, it sounded huge!” Lucas said and stammered when Billy glanced his way. “We should call Hopper.”

“I say we call Steve,” said Dustin and Jamie made a face.

“What, no! We’re not calling Steve instead of Hopper!”

“He could help!”

_“Uh, guys?”_

“More than Hopper?” Jamie asked with pure incredulousness in her voice. This hero-worshipping was going a bit too far. “If anything we should call Nancy, she’s the one with the gun.”

“Wait, Nancy has a gun?” Mike asked at the same time as Billy said: “Nancy Wheeler?”

_“Guys?”_

“Yes, Nancy has a gun!” Jamie tried to press herself further into the door to get some space between her and Billy, trying to avoid coming into contact with his bare chest. “And so does Hopper, the freaking Chief of police!” She met Billy’s unamused glare. “Even if it’s a bear, what are you gonna do, have a fistfight with it?”

“GUYS!” The timid voice of Will finally cut through the arguing. “Something’s going on with the light!”

“What?”

Jamie flipped around and twitched the curtain aside, only halfway aware of Billy pressing into her back to peer out over her head. The circle of illumination from the porch light was moving. Or...shrinking.

“Oh no,” Dustin muttered. “It’s a Shade.”

Before even Billy could begin to ask what the hell a Shade was, the porch light went out without as much as fizzle. They could see the orange tungsten thread glowing for half a second before it too disappeared in the dark. Jamie took an automatic step back when the overhead light in the kitchen also started to fade. She stepped right back into Billy, who grabbed her elbows to keep her from falling over. Together, they moved backwards, instinctively trying to stay within the waning circle of light.

“What - the hell - is going on?” Billy asked before all the lights went out.

“AAAH!” Jamie screamed when something slammed into the wall. In the pitch black of the kitchen, she held onto Billy, a confirmation that she wasn’t alone in this sea of darkness, surrounded only by the other’s screams and shrieks. The crockery rattled inside the cupboards as the whole house shook with a new blow. Every single instinct in her body told her to _run_ as the thing outside let out a long mournful shriek. It wanted in.

“Get away from the window!” shouted Billy from somewhere beside her. Someone tumbled into Jamie, who she latched onto, not letting them go. It was Max, revealed by her scream when the _thing_ hit the house again. The darkness got deeper by every second, like it was alive, thicker than air, latching onto their skin and sticking in their throats.

“Light,” shrieked Dustin from the darkness. Jamie twirled around with Billy and Max in tow, trying to pinpoint the direction of his voice. “We need light!”

“Billy! Your lighter!” shouted Max and Jamie panicked when she nearly lost grip on Billy as he fumbled around to get to his jeans pockets. Because he let go off her hand and he was too weird to wear a goddamn shirt, she was left to grip his wrist awkwardly as he tried to force his hand into his way too tight jeans.

_“Not making this easier, Madge!”_ he growled and Jamie relented her grip a fraction. Disoriented in the darkness, they moved around and crashed into another warm-bodied person. Jamie’s hands were both busy, but she felt Max grab hold of the fourth guy to keep them together.

Another howl from outside and Jamie started cursing Billy for wearing those form-fitting jeans that he could barely walk in and why would he put his lighter in a pocket he couldn’t reach and why couldn’t he just wear a sh-

Billy opened his Zippo and struck down the wheel. In the blinding darkness, the tiny flame acted like a beacon. The assaults on the house’s walls increased, even as the black shadows withdrew, and another wail came from outside. Jamie didn’t dare to breathe, in case her breath would extinguish the fire and send them back into the void.

The flame illuminated Billy’s face first, then Jamie’s when he moved the lighter around. Max’ face was revealed, and Will, who had been the fourth one they held onto. The house shook with each new assault and Billy whirled around to find the remaining three boys, all piled in a heap over some kitchen chairs.

“Okay, let’s-” Billy started but was overpowered by another long shriek from outside. The blackness retreated like someone had pulled the plug in a bathtub. The light emitted from Billy’s lighter grew and spread until it covered the kitchen and the ceiling light blinked back on.

No one dared breathe or speak. They all breathed heavily, every one latched onto one another, waiting for anything to make sense.

The front door burst open and they all jumped backwards, Jamie’s fingernails squeezing into Billy’s wrist. A tall man who looked like Billy and a smaller woman who looked like Max came in through the door, carrying shopping bags and chatting amongst themselves. They froze too, at the sight of the overcrowded kitchen and Jamie tried to surreptitiously let go of Max who she had her entire arm around.

“Hello,” said the man, who was like Billy and not phased by small details like seven people huddled together in his kitchen, three of them on the floor with a chair wedged beneath them. Jamie had no idea how the situation looked like, with her and Billy standing way too close to both each other and Max and Will, with Billy not even wearing a shirt.

“Oh my God, did something happened?” asked the woman who she guessed was Susan. Jamie realized the comment was directed at her and Dustin - the pair of them were still covered in mud and scratches. Her words penetrated the stunned bubble and everyone began moving at once. Billy flicked his lighter shut, Jamie released both him and his sister, Max bent to pick up the chair so the three boys on the floor could get up.

“There was an accident,” said Dustin and Jamie wanted to bash him into the snow again. He had a quick mouth, but not always something to say, and she feared Billy’s no-nonsense looking dad wouldn’t just believe any tall tale. “Weeeeeee...were biking home and then a car came out of nowhere so we slipped on the ice-”

“Not the Camaro!” Jamie cried out as Susan had given Billy a horrified stare. “It was a...uh, pick-up. Uh, we came here because-”

“-I go to school with Max-”

“-I’m Billy’s lab-partner-”

She and Dustin looked at each other as they had spoken at the same time. “Uhh...yeah, Dustin goes to school with Max and I’m Billy’s lab-partner. We were just gonna borrow a phone to call our mom and-”

“-and I invited them in to wait because they were soaked,” said Max, having caught up on where the Hendersons were going with this. She grabbed the towels from the table and held them up as Exhibit A.

“And the rest of you?” Mr. Hargrove asked the three remaining boys and it might be her imagination, but he seemed to be extra wary against Lucas.

“I didn’t want them to bike home in the dark,” Jamie said quickly. “It gets cold real quickly and the black ice can be lethal.”

“Are you hurt? Did you reach your mom?” asked Susan and checked over Dustin quickly. He was a little rough around the edges, courtesy of Jamie herself, but he grinned his usual sunny grin and assured her he was fine.

“We couldn’t get through to her office,” he explained calmly, grasping Susan’s hands in his, a move taken straight out of Billy Hargrove’s book ‘How to Charm a Mother’.

“Well, if my son can go put on some damn clothes,” Mr. Hargrove began in a hard voice, even if he was smiling. He tossed his car-keys to Billy who caught them with one hand. “He can take the pick-up and get both you and your bicycles safely home. Isn’t that right, son?”

“Yes, sir,” Billy bit out with his head bent. He pushed past both Jamie and Max to his room. Jamie blabbed something about thanking them for their hospitality and began shuffling the boys with her to the front hall.

“This pick-up, you get a look at the license plate?” Mr. Hargrove asked Jamie as the boys filed into Max’ room to get their coats.

“Uh, no,” Jamie said and wished she could take a class on how to tell convincing lies. “I think it was a Chevy.”

“Like that drunkard of a police chief drives?” he asked, but Jamie was spared having to answer as Billy emerged from his bedroom, wearing a fitted tank-top and his usual denim jacket. Jamie smiled awkwardly to his dad and physically pushed all of the boys out of the house.

Only Jamie’s bike was on the front lawn, but the rest of them was hidden in the bushes, as a way to conceal their whereabouts for Jamie. She and Billy hefted them onto the flatbed of the pick-up. It was just a two-seater, but the four boys could just squeeze in behind the seats, sparing them a cold ride home outside with their bikes.

Billy said nothing as he drove, dropping off Will and Mike at the Wheelers, Lucas at his house, saving Jamie and Dustin for last. She could tell by the way Billy glanced back at Dustin that he would rather not have him present for any conversation, probably because Dustin had a way of explaining things like he assumed everyone had the same level of understanding as him on any given subject. That would explain why Billy barked at Dustin to get out of the car, but asked Jamie to stay behind when they reached their house.

He turned in his seat, the pick-up not a good fit for him, but he still managed. “What the hell happened back there?”

“ _I_ don’t know!” Jamie answered truthfully. That hadn’t been like anything she had ever seen before. The way that _thing_ had spread the darkness around it...Dustin had called it a Shade, and she was gonna force him get his D&D-manual out before they went to bed tonight.

“You don’t know?” Billy repeated with a hard frown. “Really? So this talk about Demodogs and Demo-whatever, all new to you?”

“That wasn’t a Demodog,” Jamie said and Billy slammed his fist into the dashboard.

“WHAT IS A DAMN DEMODOG?”

“It’s a - uh - compound between the words Demogorgon and dog,” Jamie explained, using much of the same hand-gestures as Dustin had used when he first explained it to Chief Hopper. “Because it is basically a Demogorgon the size of a dog.”

Billy blinked slowly, like he hadn’t heard her, and the fist on the dashboard clenched and unclenched repeatedly. “What-” he talked slowly “-is a Demogorgon?”

“A monster.” Jamie’s voice was thin and hollow. “From another world.”

“A monster,” Billy repeated and bent his head so a ringlet from his fringe fell into his eyes, “from another world? Like an alien?”

She shrugged. “Sort of. Uh...we’re not really supposed to talk about this. Please don’t mention this to anyone. I’m serious, Billy, you could get us all into real trouble.”

“Real trouble?”

Jamie swallowed and leaned closer over the console. It was unlikely the car was bugged, but for all she knew, her driveway could be. She whispered: “Hawkins Lab was a secret government facility. Some very powerful people covered up what really happened to Will and to Barbara Holland-” and to her “-and we signed some confidentiality clauses that basically gives them the right to lock us up if we talk about this.”

“Hawkins Lab? The cover-story blew before Christmas, some anonymous sources or whatever exposed what-”

“Yeah, uh, that was still not the truth, just a cover-cover-story. It’s - uhm - we don’t know if it’s connected or not yet. What happened tonight was different. Please, Billy, I’m begging you, don’t talk to anyone about this. Not your dad, not Susan, not even Max unless you know you’re not under surveillance.”

“Surveillance?” Billy rolled the word on his tongue and she saw the flicker of light in his eyes, the tiny sign that meant he was waiting to be in on the joke, for her to yell ‘SIKE’ and have the world back to normal again. It snuffed out. “You’re serious.”

“I wish I wasn’t,” Jamie croaked and blew air out her mouth in an effort to prevent herself from crying. “You better get back before your dad wonders where you are.” She noticed how his jaw set firmly at the mention of his dad. “If something happens, call Jim Hopper, okay? He can help.”

“Jesus Christ. All right. Jim Hopper. Gotcha.” Billy got out of the car and lifted her and Dustin’s bike off the pick-up.

“Jim Hopper,” Jamie repeated and saw Billy nod before he drove off. Into the night. Into the dark.

* * *

The next day, Dustin slipped her a note at breakfast to meet at the AV room after school.

He had been waiting for her just inside the front door last night and she nearly pissed her pants when she came in after talking to Billy. Dustin had of course been watching her the whole time and demanded to know what she had told him and she had to clamp her hand over his mouth to stop him from talking, trying to indicate with her hands that their house could be bugged with listening devices. She was taking a note from Nancy when it came to paranoia, but better safe than sorry. Jamie was working on a signal detector to find any hidden devices, but it was still a work in progress.

No, better to talk in the AV club, even if it meant an awkward trek from Hawkins High to Hawkins Middle after school. She had seen Billy, who was not her lab-partner, but did have Chemistry with her, and avoided gaining eye-contact. The less involved he was, the better. Same went for Steve, who she was forced to talk to when he came rushing to ask her about what had happened yesterday.

“Uh, yesterday?” she repeated dumbly before it was clear that Steve was talking about her getting arrested, not being attacked by some sort of shadow monster. In an effort to at least get something off her chest, she relayed the story of the Henderson Special and the guilty middle schoolers.

“Oh, man, really?” he had said and they had jibed about how much trouble those little shits were. He mentioned something about talking to Dustin, and it made her wonder just how much time they were spending together. Not that she felt her position as the elder Henderson-sibling was under threat, but she was worried about Steve not really having close friends his own age. He would graduate this Spring and he had been completely mum about how his college applications were going.

The school day passed in a blur and Jamie knew that Nancy was suspicious of her behaviour. She had to feign an excuse about talking to Mr. Clarke about something to make Nancy leave her alone after classes ended.

“Shades,” said Dustin and opened up one of his many D&D-manuals. “Humanoids who have merged with shadowstuff, resides in the Shadowrealm. Most powerful in the dark, can leap from shadow to shadow and decrease light, like it did with the lights at Max’ house.”

Max stood there with folded arms. She was not an avid D&D-player as far as Jamie knew. “What do you mean, humanoid?”

“They kinda look like humans,” Dustin explained. “You know, walks on two legs, has two arms, a head.”

“Did anyone get a look at the thing yesterday?” Jamie asked, still perplexed that the AV-club looked exactly like it had when she was in Middle School.

No one had.

“It had to be huge though,” said Lucas and the others agreed. “I thought it was gonna break down the wall.”

“Unless,” Dustin said, “we’re dealing with a spellcaster.”

“Okay, okay, I can accept that monsters are real,” Jamie said and nudged Dustin. “But I draw the line at magic.”

“Really?” her brother demanded to know. “After you’ve seen what El can do? Really?”

“Are you seeing her after school today?” Lucas asked Mike and the boy in question blushed deeply. Apparently he was. “Maybe you can ask her, you know, if she’s heard of this stuff before.”

“She’s talked about her sister before.” Mike preferred to stare at the table rather than look at them. Jamie had no idea of the nature of his relationship with El, but it was obviously something he wanted to keep private. “She can make people see whatever she wants.”

Dustin nodded as if that made perfect sense. “Could’ve been an illusion, sure.”

“The whole house was shaking!” Jamie protested.

“Or someone wanted you to think it was shaking!”

“Oh my God,” Jamie muttered and rubbed her eyes. “What am I doing here?” She shut the book to look at its cover. _Monstrous Compendium. “_ Why are we not telling Hopper about this?”

“What’s he gonna do?” Mike was not Chief Hopper’s biggest fan after he found out Hopper had been hiding Eleven at his cabin for almost a year.

“Uh, I dunno, investigate?” Jamie asked and wondered if Nancy would be upset if Jamie smacked her little brother around a bit. “‘Cause he’s the police and all.”

“What’s there to investigate? No one got hurt, no one got taken, there wasn’t even a mark left on the house this morning, right, Max?” Lucas said and turned to Max who shook her head to confirm this.

“No, nothing.”

“Which does support an illusion-theory.” Dustin picked up his bestiary and began flipping through it. “And that leaves us with about a hundred different options, if it doesn’t turn out it was just Eleven’s sister.”

Jamie folded her arms while rolling her eyes. Middle schoolers. “All right, smartasses, answer me this: Why did it or they attack _us_? Why that house?”

There was no immediate answer, but theories ranged from Will being ‘marked’ after his possession last year, or even Jamie, because of the bite from two years ago. They did agree on one thing though, that this somehow _felt_ vastly different from when the Demogorgon or the Mindflayer had attacked. Less corporeal, but every bit as scary.

The only thing they could agree on was to be careful and to pay attention to anything that would indicate something suspicious going on in Hawkins - again.

It was almost four o’clock when they filed out of the tiny AV-room, straight into a smiling Mr. Clarke.

“Jamie!” he exclaimed happily while she wanted to sink into a hole in the ground. There was not one viable explanation as to why she had been hanging out in the AV-club with her brother and his friends, but luckily, he didn’t ask. He did ask for a quick word though, in private.

“Jamie, do you remember back in 6th grade when you built that magnificent potato cannon?” he asked after her brother and his friends were at least presumably out of earshot. Jamie nodded awkwardly, like she could just barely recall the missile launcher in question. Mr. Clarke usually didn’t pay much attention to current events in Hawkins and had obviously not heard that Jamie was arrested yesterday. “Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I kept a copy of your drawings. I was hoping if you ever listed me as a reference on your college applications, I could bring out those drawings and show just how adept you were, even in 6th grade.”

“Oh,” said Jamie at this sudden turn of events. “Really?”

“Yes,” Mr. Clarke said with his trademark friendly smile that doubled in size because of his mustache. “Only, I had to switch offices recently - mold, you know - and when I went through my archive, I couldn’t seem to locate your drawings. Some of the kids helped me move and they must’ve mistaken that box for junk. Do you still have the original?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Jamie said and stared at the quintet of heads watching her and Mr. Clarke from around the corner. Three guesses as to who ‘those kids’ were. “I’ll have to check back home, but I think so, yeah.”

“I would love to make a new set of copies,” Mr. Clarke said and leaned in conspiratorially. “If you ask me, Hawkins PD does not appreciate good craftsmanship when they see it.”

“I’ll see if I can find them,” Jamie assured him and bid him a good evening. So that was where those little shitheads have found her drawings, huh? That meant it had to be the cat that was making a mess in her room after all.

At least she hoped it was the cat.

* * *

Miss Kim had knocked her to the floor at least ten times now and Jamie was getting sick of getting up all the time. When she went down again, she groaned and decided to take a mini-break by just taking her time to sit up.

“You seem distracted tonight,” Miss Kim commented. This was her first lesson on footwork other than the correct stance.

“Had a long week,” Jamie said and got up. Miss Kim was usually not interested in small-talk, preferring to spend their limited time together in deep focus and agonizing pain on Jamie’s part. She settled down in the first stance and shuffled her feet while Miss Kim watched. “Ow!”

Miss Kim did not look perturbed at kicking the teenager to the floor yet again. “You’re not balanced.”

“ _You’re_ not balanced,” muttered Jamie from the floor, but not loud enough so Miss Kim heard it. She sat halfway up and leaned on her elbows. “I’m just...not seeing the point right now.”

“The point to learn taekwondo?” Miss Kim correctly guessed and Jamie nodded. Now Miss Kim sighed and dropped to her knees next to Jamie. “And why is that?”

“Because my biggest opponents aren’t people. I can’t fight them with my bare hands.”

Miss Kim nodded slowly. “You know the meaning behind the name ‘taekwondo’?”

“Uhh,” Jamie said because Miss Kim _had_ told her a few weeks ago. “Empty hand?”

“That’s karate.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Miss Kim got to her feet and centered in a basic stance. “ _Tae_ means foot, to kick.” Her leg flew out to the side, hitting an invisible enemy. “ _Kwon_ means hand, to punch.” Her fist tore through the air in front of her. “And _do_ means head, to-”

“Headbutt?” asked Jamie and Miss Kim rolled her eyes.

“To think,” she finished and sat back down. “Your opponents, who aren’t people, those you cannot kick or punch, you beat those with your head, your thoughts. By not letting fear paralyze you or let doubt stop you, that is how you defeat those opponents.”

Miss Kim had misunderstood Jamie’s words completely, but she appreciated the pep-talk. In an abstract way, it made sense too. Eleven defeated both the Demogorgon and the Mindflayer with her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's probably not a Demodog...
> 
> Thank you guys for reading and commenting and generally being awesome. I hope I won't disappoint you with season 2.5 :)


	14. Chapter 14

As the accountant as she was, Jamie’s mom put up a payment plan for the ‘loan’ of 800 dollars that they had paid Merril Wright as compensation for the damages. At least Jamie got good interests, and had already started working to reduce the principal by taking on all the extra chores around the house. It included building a kitty-prison for Tews.

The kitty-prison was their term for where the cat spent its days when their mom wasn’t home. It had the whole kitchen to roam about with his food and water bowls, his toys and his litter box, but Jamie had set up some kitten-proof baby gates to discourage his exploration of the rest of the house. They had found too many tiny poops in strange places, and was trying to make him learn to use the litter box instead.

Cleaning out the litter box, was of course, also one of Jamie’s new jobs, one she deftly delegated to Dustin.

He pointed out that if he just refused to do it, Jamie would face the backlash from their mom. Jamie pointed that out that if he refused to do it, she would give him a purple nurple that would ensure he couldn’t even wear sweatshirts until he reached 8th grade.

So he cleaned out the litter box.

Her mom still paid for her driving lessons with Billy and her sessions with Miss Kim, probably seeing it as sound investment, but reminded Jamie of her obligation to find a summer job before the end of term. Jamie had a place in mind, but hadn’t racked up the courage to go ask yet.

Summer still seemed a long way off.

By the time March fell upon Hawkins, Jamie was cruising around the city centre in Billy’s Camaro. He thought she drove ridiculously slow, but she was too worried about following traffic regulations to care about speed. It had been a few weeks since the incident at the Hargroves, and nothing out of the ordinary had happened since. No shadows, no monsters and no arrests.

They usually ended the driving lessons by going out to see the new mall being constructed, brick by brick and beam by beam. It was Jamie’s favourite part of the lessons, because it was just a straight piece of road that hardly saw any traffic at night. She couldn’t concentrate with Billy’s loud music, and he sat bored next to her with the windows open, even if it was only fifty degrees outside.

Neither had mentioned anything about Demodogs or the likes after that night. It sat between them like a large unopened box that they had to tiptoe around in every conversation.

A large banner was placed on the building being constructed. ‘NEW STARCOURT MALL - OPENS JUNE 1ST 1985’. Then it listed all the different stores and restaurants it was gonna have. Rumour said there would be a movie theatre too, with more than one screen, a downright novelty in the small town of Hawkins. It didn’t impress Billy though, which he made abundantly clear, as it couldn’t compare to the malls in San Diego, California.

They leaned against the hood of his Camaro while Billy smoked his cigarette. He politely refrained from doing it inside the car while Jamie was driving, after she had threatened to drive into a tree if he didn’t get that smoke out of her face. It was nippy outside and Jamie was glad she had a big duffel coat on with deep pockets for her fingers.

“Cold?” he asked _her_ as if he hadn’t dressed like he was going to the beach. Billy had added a scarf to his regular ensemble that hung loosely around his neck, concealing around one square-inch of his otherwise exposed chest.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” she shot back with a quirked eyebrow. She huddled inside her coat. “I’m nice and toasty.”

Billy inhaled sharply from his cigarette and let the smoke stream out. “Toasty?”

“Yeah, toasty,” she repeated and laughed at his expression. “You never heard that? It means, you know, warm and comfy, like toast.” It was almost peaceful out here, with the huge looming building of the mall illuminated by big work lights. “You wanna drive us back? It’s getting kinda late.”

He nodded and snuffed out the last piece of his smoke. Despite Jamie’s disapproving frown, he threw it straight into the grass. You’d think a Californian would think twice about starting a forest fire, even in March. They both got off the hood and the world turned black.

The huge lanterns that lit up the mall had switched off.

“Billy?” she asked instantly and reached out. Her knee bounced into the car, but her hand found Billy’s denim jacket.

“Just a power outage,” he said, his voice somewhere to her right. It sounded detached from his body, like it was just his voice alone, floating by itself in the darkness. His muscles moved reassuringly under his jacket, reminding her that he was still a whole person and that she was not alone. Jamie blinked rapidly to kickstart her night vision - she could see clearly in the dark, usually. Just not now.

Trying to convince herself it was just because of the sudden change from light to dark, she put a hand on the car to get a sense of her surroundings. Billy was right. It was just a power outage, they were probably still connecting the mall to the main grid-

A long horrible shriek pierced the silence.

For a few long and painful seconds, Jamie stood frozen to the spot. The shriek rang in her ears, echoing in her mind, penetrating her nerves. It was out there, and it was coming for her.

“Jamie!” Billy’s voice came from the darkness and she felt his breath on her face. He was shaking her by the arms. “Get in the car!”

It meant letting go off each other, but Jamie clung to the hood of the Camaro, a shape more familiar to her now than her mom’s old Pinto. She knew the curves and the lines and she felt her way along the hood and to the side, searching for the door handle.

A new shriek, closer, and there was no barrier to protect them here, no light, no house, just the flimsy metal cage. She flung herself into the passenger seat, still completely blind. To her left, Billy cursed and she heard his hand scatter across the dashboard and console, searching for the keys where she had left them on the console.

The Camaro was like a piece of clothing to Billy, but somehow, going blind like this made everything seem unfamiliar and strange. She reached over to help him, their hands touching each other equally as much as the car. There was a jingle as the keys fell from wherever they sat.

“Shit!” Billy yelled and hit something, maybe the ceiling.

“My side or yours?” Jamie asked and tried to keep breathing so she could use that goddamn hearing of hers for something. “My side or yours, Billy?!”

“Mine!” he growled and sounded strained, like he was bent over to search the floor by his feet. The darkness became thick again, just as last time, and now the ground shook at heavy feet taking _something_ closer to them.

“Lean back!” Jamie ordered, because he probably couldn’t even bend in those jeans of his. She leaned over the console and Billy’s right thigh to flail blindly at the floor between the pedals and Billy’s boots. Slow down, she said to herself, work methodically. She trailed her hands over the floor, searching the lengths of the mat and finally locking her hands around metal.

“Got ‘em!” She hit her head on Billy’s when going back up, but grabbed his arm and felt her way down to his hand to give him the keys. If he could start the car, start the headlights, maybe the shadows would go away.

Billy jammed the keys into the ignition and the engine roared to life. The lights did not.

It had to be muscle memory, because she felt Billy’s arm on the back of her seat as he turned around to see out of the rearview mirror when he put the car in reverse. Except there was nothing to see. Even the sounds moved differently, Billy’s breathing growing distant, like he wasn’t there at all and it was just her in this darkness and it would never be anyone but her here and she could scream all she wanted because-

Billy backed the car up with as much speed as possible in reverse. The headlights flared into life. She met Billy’s wild-eyed stare, wondering if he had felt that nerve-piercing loneliness too, but the moment was short-lived. As fast as the lights went on, they went off again.

Jamie screamed: “It’s getting closer. Drive!”

He must have oriented himself in their brief reprieve from the darkness, because he drifted the car around and slammed down the gas-pedal like only he knew how. In seconds, the lights shot back on and the road loomed ahead.

“Billy,” Jamie said slowly. She had turned around to stare out the back of the car. “Drive!”

The darkness followed. Not moving tendrils of shadows, just a tidal wave of pure black nothingness overtaking the landscape. Even the stars blinked out of existence and Jamie wondered just how _big_ this thing was.

“Seatbelt!”

“What?”

“Seatbelt,” Billy spat out through gritted teeth. He had both hands on the wheel, eyes trained on the road ahead, and Jamie saw the speedometer reach triple digits. She did as told, buckling herself in.

“What about you?” she asked, as Billy had probably not put on a seatbelt since he was old enough to drive and he certainly hadn’t done it now. Billy was too focused to answer, just glancing back in the mirror every few seconds. Jamie put the top strap of the seatbelt under her arm and slowly, to not disturb him, she reached behind his head to the strap hanging there forlornly.

She twisted to get the strap with her other arm, keeping it well away from Billy’s line of vision. “Arm!” Billy released his left arm from the wheel for a split second to let her take the seatbelt over it. The bottom strap lay tight over his hips and she fastened it. She flung herself back in her seat, adjusting her seatbelt back and tried to breathe.

The Camaro vibrated with the effort at going top-speed. She wondered if Billy would force it all the way to 200 mph, as far as the speedometer went. She wondered what would happen when they reached the end of the straight road. She wondered if the Camaro had been crash-tested with a female crash-dummy, or if the makers had assumed women were just smaller versions of men and if her clavicle would smash into a million pieces if they hit-

“AAAH!” she screamed as an oncoming truck came blaring from their right. The horn wailed in the night as it went behind them, a loud admonishing groan, missing them by what seemed like inches. She stared after it, the huge fog lights going by in the distance. Up ahead, downtown Hawkins glittered.

“It’s gone,” said Billy after glancing in the rearview mirror. Jamie’s heart pounded and she turned quickly to look. True enough, behind them was just the open countryside and the long stretch of straight road.

“Are you gonna slow down?” she asked. They were driving at 130 mph. Billy nodded jerkily, not looking away from the road. The car still zoomed ahead. “Billy! Slow down!”

“All right. All right,” Billy said and took his foot off the pedal like it was a gargantuan effort to do so. His fingers were white around the wheel. He didn’t brake, just let the car idle its way down to a more comfortable 70mph before they reached the highway intersection. Billy swung the car into an empty office parking lot and finally killed the ignition, but left the headlights on.

He tried to bound out of the car, but was held back by the seatbelt that he undid with shaky fingers. Jamie unbuckled hers slowly, watching Billy carefully as he paced in front of the car, struggling to light a cigarette. Jamie got out too.

“That was close,” she said, in lack of better things to say. She jumped as Billy threw his head back and whooped loudly into the night.

“WHOO! That _was_ a close one!” he screamed and laughed like a maniac. Automatically, she took a step back. She knew this Billy. This was the Billy who had come to the Byers’ house back in November, who had beat Steve into a pulp and and who had choked Jamie until she nearly passed out. This was Billy high on adrenaline and feeling the rush of being alive. He threw off his jacket, as if his body could not handle the constraints, and did a few more primal shouts of pent up energy.

Jamie hugged herself, cold and hot at the same time: “Are you okay?”

Billy laughed and looked at Jamie with crazy eyes, as if he was seeing her for the first time. “Feels good to be alive, baby.”

She had no time to react before he grabbed her head with both hands and kissed her roughly on the mouth. It was a wet kiss, no tongue, but a lot of lip and he was gone so fast she had to wonder if he had been there at all. Jamie stared as he shouted something again and kicked a nearby trashcan. Her lips felt bruised, but not as much as her ego.

It took some time for Billy to calm down and he sucked at the cigarette like he had a personal vendetta against it, inhaling and exhaling rapidly. Jamie hadn’t dared move, or say anything, in fear of him focusing that crazed energy on her again. After his second cigarette, he leaned his head back and blew the last of the smoke out of his mouth.

He stalked over to the car, proclaiming: “I need food. You want pizza? I’m buying.”

And because he was her ride home, she got in the car and wondered how long it would take for them to get arrested for vandalism or speeding, whichever came first. Billy didn’t start the car right away and he seemed to deflate into the car-seat, eyes half-closed, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. A lip that had been on Jamie’s lips, and her chin and her cheek for that matter.

Billy ran his hand through his hair, checked his appearance in the rearview mirror, before turning to Jamie: “You okay, baby?”

Baby? When did that become her nickname? He usually called her Madge, based on her Halloween-costume when they first met.

“Uh, yeah,” she answered, not very convincingly, but it was good enough for Billy. He tore out of the parking lot and somehow managed to not get stopped for speeding on his way to the local pizza parlour. She got in a booth while he went up and ordered. When he had his back to her, she touched her lips gingerly, wondering if they looked as swollen as they felt.

Billy came back with a tray full of the pizza-slices that had been left in the heating cabinet on the counter. He tore into the food as a man on a mission and Jamie nibbled at a piece, confounded by this new side of Billy. Not new though, but it was the first time she’d encountered it without violence being in the front and center of his focus. Still, with the kiss in mind, it looked like food and sex were other two outlets for his energy.

His earring glinted when he turned to look at her again. He grabbed a napkin to dab at his mouth and leaned back as he tossed the napkin on the table. “You sure you’re okay?”

Are _you_ okay? She wanted to scream at him, but just shook her head instead.

“No,” she said honestly and let the pizza-slice drop. Her appetite was equal to zero. “I’m freaked out. And scared.”

Billy, now back to his regular scheduled program, waited for her to continue as he chewed.

“That _thing_ or whatever, it’s only attacked twice, as far as we know at least. The common denominators are us. Or, you know, me.” Jamie’s voice shook, but she managed to keep the volume down. There weren’t many people in the pizza parlor with them.

“Why would it be after you?”

“Dustin thinks I’m marked, or something,” Jamie said and avoided Billy’s now half-lidded gaze. He didn’t say anything, but made a motion for her to go on. “I’m pretty sure Tommy H and Carol told you all about it, but you know I was attacked by a rabid animal? Yeah, it wasn’t a rabid animal.”

His gaze rested on the table, as if he could see through the material at her legs. “You mean...”

“The Demogorgon,” she said shortly and hoped the guy sitting by the counter wasn’t a government agent. “It got me.”

“It got you?” Billy repeated. “Okay.”

“You’d be more impressed if you knew what a Demogorgon looks like,” Jamie muttered, a little miffed at the lack of response for her big revelation. She could always fold up her pants, that scarred mess would definitely get a reaction. His eyebrows rose and she saw his curiosity. “Let’s just say I can’t pass it of as a shark bite.”

More like, a hundred shark bites.

“All right. So this living darkness is after you because you got bit by an alien monster?”

“Yeah? Unless you can think of a reason it would be after you?”

No response.

Billy leaned forward to gobble another pizza-slice. It was a wonder he was in such good shape, if he always ate like that. “Okay,” he said after a while. “How do we stop it?”

* * *

Billy had called it a ‘living darkness’ and she had trouble to think of a better way to explain it. She knew she had heard footsteps and seen the trees move when the thing did, so it had some sort of mass, but the darkness was just as big part of it as Jamie’s hands were to her. Like an extension of its body, it sent the darkness out first to subdue before it could attack.

This was the way she explained it to Dustin after Billy dropped her off. Part of her hoped their house was bugged, and that agents would sweep in and clear Hawkins out for monsters - for good this time.

“Typical Shade-behavior,” said Dustin and Jamie groaned. “What? It is! It’s strongest in the dark and has the power to bring darkness with it where it goes.”

“Okay, but what does it _want?”_ Jamie demanded to know. She was nursing a cup of tea that Dustin had made for her in one of his sudden kicks of fraternal care. “Is it just hungry for human flesh like the Demogorgon? Does it want to take over the world, like the Mindflayer?”

“Uh, hold on.” Dustin brought out his monster-manual and let his finger trail the page. “It feasts on negative emotions, says here.”

“Negative emotions?”

“Yeah, you know like, sadness, loneliness, fear...”

“I know what negative emotions are, idiot. What does it mean that it feasts on it?”

“The book says that it grows stronger by feeding of negativity from humans or other beings with human-like empathic abilities. When it is strong enough, it will feast on the human to sate its undead hunger for-” Dustin hesitated before he swallowed and finished: “-souls.”

“Souls? Jesus Christ,” Jamie muttered and put the cup down. Every time something started to make sense, she was reminded that this wasn’t the ‘Hawkin’s Guide to Monsters and Beings’ or even some ancient text found in a tomb to warn them, but a _game_ developed by some probably pretty pasty guys in a dank basement somewhere.

The Hendersons were not overly religious, despite their dad being of Italian descent and their mom Irish. Technically, they were Catholic, but only attended mass twice a year, during Christmas and Easter. Catholicism was pretty big on souls though, but Jamie doubted it was the same soul that the Shade wanted to — as per Dustin’s words — feast on.

Jamie shook her head to clear it from the current train of thoughts. It was a school night. “I’m going to bed.”

“Wait, take this,” Dustin hurriedly said and produced a dusty camping lantern she recognized from mosquito-filled summer vacations from a few years ago. It ran on gas and had a piezo-igniter so you didn’t need to fumble around with matches to light it up. He saw her expression and persisted. “Shades despise light. Go on. Take it.”

Grumblingly, she snatched the lantern from his hands and told him to get his own ass to bed before their mom came home. She flicked on the ceiling light in her room and groaned. Papers were scattered all over the floor, the whole room was one big mess.

“Duustiiiin! I told you to keep that cat away from my room!”

Dustin came bouncing down the hall, carrying the cat in his arms. “He’s been in the kitchen the whole time! In his kitty-prison.”

“Are you sure?” Jamie asked and stooped down to pick up the books and notes. “Then how do you explain this?”

“Explain what?” Dustin asked, but Jamie held up a hand to make him wait and picked up a blacklight that had been a birthday present from a few years ago. She turned off the ceiling-light and let the blacklight hover over the large area she had lightly spread white neon eyeshadow a few weeks ago. The eyeshadow had been part of a Halloween-costume and reacted under the blacklight.

Dustin and Jamie leaned over the circle of powder.

“That does not look like a cat print,” Dustin commented after a few second went past. Jamie had to agree, unless Tews had taken to wearing large size 10 or 11-boots when they weren’t home.

Jamie felt a shiver run down her spine. She’d used the almost invisible eyeshadow so her mom wouldn’t think her room was filthy and come in with a vacuum. She hadn’t intended on catching a person snooping through her stuff.

She and Dustin looked at each other and he dropped the cat down. It strode across the powder and left a distinct set of footprints next to the heavy bootprint.

“Is anything missing?” Dustin turned the ceiling-light back on, but Jamie was already rummaging through the stacks of papers and notebooks. With her one-pile filing system, she still had a pretty good idea of what was in the pile or not.

“Not that I can tell,” she concluded after confirming that at least all the important stuff, like her doodling drawings for an improved Henderson Special, was in place. She did a sweep of the room, but the radio, the walkman, the piggy bank, all the valuable stuff was in place. Who would break into her room, multiple times, just to make a mess?

Someone who hadn’t found what they were looking for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Impromptu hiatus because of the US elections. I'm not even in the US, but whooeee, it's been a long week!  
> Congratulations on being (almost) done!   
> Thank you for reading and commenting and being awesome :) Hope you enjoyed the new chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is twice as long as the rest. Hope you enjoyed, please leave a review :)


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